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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27345523">Jaster's Legacy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiger_Badger/pseuds/Tiger_Badger'>Tiger_Badger</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rise of Empire Era - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action/Adventure, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Bounty Hunters, Brother-Sister Relationships, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Family Feels, Fusion of Star Wars Legends and Disney Canon, Hurt/Comfort, Jango Fett is Mandalorian, Mandalorian Appreciation (Star Wars), Mandalorian Bounty Hunter, Mandalorian Clans (Star Wars), Mandalorian Culture, Mando'a Language (Star Wars), Other, Planet Kamino (Star Wars)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-09 02:40:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>47,252</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27345523</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiger_Badger/pseuds/Tiger_Badger</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's 29 BBY, and the future clone army are still only boys. Cye Mereel and her adopted brother Jango Fett agreed to Tyranus' offer for vengeance against the Jedi, but now they must decide if their choice to secure their father's legacy was the right one.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jango Fett/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Trapped on Corellia Station</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi friends! This is the first story I've ever posted. The idea for this is based on a Star Wars roleplaying game (West End Games edition if anyone is wondering) my family and I are playing. I like the characters so much I wanted to write more stories about them! I hope that you get to love the characters as much as I do. This story is about Cye (pronounced 'Shay') Mereel, a Mandalorian bounty hunter. My goal is to be able to post more stories with our other characters in the weeks ahead. ~TB</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>29 BBY</p><p>An eye-stinging blend of burning tibana and scorched durasteel fumed from the bulkhead Cye used as cover. She knocked her head against the metal, berating herself for tripping the sensors as she exchanged an empty charge pack for a full one, snapping it angrily into her Westar blaster. She had two more left and a long way to go to get to the pick up point. A blaster bolt hit the steel by her head, singeing her ear.</p><p>“<em>Osik! </em> ” She forced out a breath and psyched herself up “ <em> Come on! K’atini! </em>”</p><p>Cye vaulted from cover and twisted her body to shoot behind her. She had modified the fire rate of her Westar to bypass the cool down. She prayed, no, <em> willed </em> it not to overheat as her constant barrage made the security chasing her duck for cover themselves. She broke into a run, pointing the blaster behind her firing blind. She dove to the right and pulled up the map on the HUD of her T-visor. </p><p>The landing platform was only four turns and a level away. She barreled through a group of unsuspecting technicians and turned a corner. Instead of going to the lift she chose to add a couple extra turns to her trip and skidded into the maintenance room to hide while she reevaluated her situation. </p><p>Cye leaned against the door after it slid shut, gasping for breath in the dark. She strained to hear any sign of her pursuers over the pounding of her heart. They passed several seconds later, shouting to someone on the other side of their comms to lockdown all the lifts. <em> Damn. </em> She’d have to find another way up. Her shoulders fell in the silence that followed and finally hit the light. </p><p>Cleaning supplies, deactivated service droids, small repulsorlifts, and a couple maintenance uniforms hung inside the small space. She checked the walls for any access panels and found a vent in the ceiling. Thanking her luck as she pried open the vent, setting it carefully on one of the lifts before she pulled herself up and climbed through.</p><p>“Who do they hire to fit in these vents, jawas?” Cye mumbled to herself as she low-crawled through the ducts at a slug’s pace to keep any noise at a minimum. She couldn’t afford to draw away their attention to the lifts. It took nearly four minutes to get to a vent opening that led to the landing bay.</p><p>Hondo’s Flarestar was nowhere on the platform. Cye checked the time again. She was well within the window for pickup. Her gut twisted, worried that something might have happened to him. She wriggled in the narrow tube until she managed a hunched sitting position inside the duct. It only took seconds for him to respond.</p><p>“Ah, you’re still alive, Cye,” Hondo’s cheer tone didn’t put her at ease. “I’m glad.”</p><p>“Where the hell are you, H? I’m at the RV point,” she hissed. “The sensors tripped and I had to make a break for it.”</p><p>“Were you able to get the data?” he asked, seemingly unaware of the urgency in her tone.</p><p>“Of course I did, but we won't get any credits if I can’t get off this station,” Cye snapped. “<em> Where are you </em>?”</p><p>The silence made her stomach drop. “I’m sorry my dear. I won’t be able to make it.”</p><p>“What do you mean, H? What happened?”</p><p>“I received a better offer. Leave you behind, get the data anyway, get paid triple.”</p><p>Cye’s head spun. “What are you doing? Why?” Her voice trembled. “I’m sorry, H. I know I was as mir’sheb with you before. I love you. You can’t leave me here.”</p><p>“Oh, my sweet,” the syrupy way he talked as if he weren’t betraying her made her sick. “I love you too, but I don’t have a choice.”</p><p>“Hondo, don’t do this.” She hated the way her voice sounded as she begged. She’d not been that person for a long time. “I know we’ve had some problems, but-”</p><p>“Cye,” his voice turned from jovial and sweet to husky and mean. “You won’t change my mind on this. We’ve had a good run, you and I, but this is the end. Our relationship is no longer profitable. I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Hondo?” she whispered meekly. “H? Hondo!” She stared out at the landing platform, her mind reeling as he cut the connection. Cye desperately tried to open a comm channel with him. She’d left angry. He had told her not to go, that they hadn’t needed to take the job to get the schematics for Corellia’s latest freighter. They’d argued, nothing hurtful was said that they hadn’t said to each other before. She’d figured they’d make up once the credits came in, like they always had.</p><p>“Shabuir,” she cursed. “Shabuir!” </p><p>Her fists clenched as she blinked the tears away before they had the chance to form. If she hadn’t been trying to hide she would have punched a hole straight through the durasteel. She could be upset later. At that moment she needed to find a way off Corellia Station. Her first thought was to make her exit here, but the platform below her swarmed with security. The bastard had probably tipped them off to her arrival.</p><p>The only way she could go was back, so she crawled her way to the maintenance closet and lowered herself back into the cramped space. <em> How am I going to get out? </em> She thought through all the possibilities, and the majority of them ended badly for her. There was only one person she trusted to help her now, and she wasn't sure if he'd be willing to. Desperate times left her with no choice but to find out.</p><p>Cye took off her helmet, turned on her holo-comm, and hit record. “Ori’vod, it’s me. I know I haven’t kept in touch like I should have, but I’m up to my neck in osik and could really use a place to lay low for a while. Send me coordinates to meet if you can.” She grimaced at the desperation in her voice and shook her head. “If you want to. If you don’t, I understand. If you don’t hear from me in the next couple days, I’m probably in a Corellian jail. I’m sorry. Tell Boba I love him.”</p><p>She sent the message to her brother’s private comm through their shared coded frequency, hoping that he’d meet her halfway. She’d have to get out of this place first. </p><p>“Think, Cye,” she goaded. “You can figure this out.”</p><p>There was no way she could simply fight her way out of there. She might be able to wait it out until the heightened security cooled off some, but she couldn’t rely on that. Especially since she’d only given herself two days before her brother would burn everything in his path to rescue her. At least she hoped he would. She wiped a hand over her face and shook her head clear. </p><p>As she opened her eyes they fell on the maintenance uniforms. She ripped one off its hanger and held it up. It was impossible to fit it over her armor, and even if she’d been able to she’d still stand out. </p><p>“Shab it.”</p><p>Cye began to remove her armor. She got her flak vest off and pried off her leg plates before pulling the maintenance uniform over her envirosuit. Satisfied, she looked around to find something large enough to hide her armor in. There was a case of cleaners tucked behind an oversized A-LT utility droid. She quickly opened it and removed all the bottles and the lining. The leg plates fit along with her vambraces and helmet, but the flak vest didn’t. Cye cursed, but she could always get another vest made. Her father’s beskar'gam was irreplaceable. </p><p>She activated her vibroblade. The familiar, threatening hum was almost comforting if she weren’t using it to cut the armor plates from her flak vest. She placed them into the cleaner case and forced the box closed. It bulged outwards, but managed to stay shut enough to not betray its contents. She set the box onto the small repulsorlift, along with several other cleaning agents. She couldn’t hide the blaster in the mess, so she tucked it into the side of her binder under her arm before zipping up the uniform. She fastened her utility belt around her waist, hoping that it would fit well enough with the disguise.</p><p>Cye pulled the pins that kept her braid tight to her head and let it fall in a tangled mess. She combed her unruly black hair with her fingers, pulling apart knots and smoothing her curls. When she could run her hand through her hair without hitting large snags she let it fall over her right cheek to mask the web of thin scars and the rest cascade over her shoulder. Cye took a deep breath, straightened out the uniform, clipped the lift control to her belt, and walked out of the maintenance storage and down the long corridor like she belonged there.</p><p> </p><p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p>Mando'a Translations:</p><p><em>Osik</em> - Shit<br/><em>K'atini!</em> - It's only pain! (also; Suck it up!)<br/><em>Mir'sheb</em> - Smartass/asshole<br/><em>Shabuir</em> - Motherfucker<br/><em>Ori'vod</em> - Big brother, a term of endearment<br/><em>Shab</em> - Fuck<br/><em>Beskar'gam</em> - Armor</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Escaping Corellia Station</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's 29 BBY, and the future clone army are still only boys. Cye Mereel and her adopted brother Jango Fett agreed to Tyranus' offer for vengeance against the Jedi, but now they must decide if their choice to secure their father's legacy was the right one.</p><p>When she's betrayed and abandoned by her lover, Cye Mereel turns to the only person she has left in the galaxy in the hopes of starting over; Jango Fett.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi friends! Thank you so much for reading and for your kind comments (looking at you Clonelover!) I hope you enjoy chapter 2. I'm editing chapter 3 now so it should be up tomorrow night.</p><p>This is the first story I've ever posted. The idea for this is based on a Star Wars roleplaying game (West End Games edition if anyone is wondering) my family and I are playing. I like the characters so much I wanted to write more stories about them! I hope that you get to love the characters as much as I do. This story is about Cye (pronounced 'Shay') Mereel, a Mandalorian bounty hunter. My goal is to be able to post more stories with our other characters in the weeks ahead. ~TB</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>29 BBY</p><p><em>Look uninteresting. Look like you belong and no one will bother you. </em>Cye kept her head down, avoiding meeting the eyes of anyone she passed. There was a holding bay on that level that had to have at least one freighter ready for the taking, but it was on the other side of the facility. </p><p>She should have taken her own advice earlier, but she’d got cocky and overconfident. It had been too easy. So easy in fact that Hondo may have set her up from the start. He’d done it to others before. Hell, she <em> helped him </em> set up underlings with too much initiative to put them back in their place or take them out entirely. <em>Why should I be any different? Why had I thought I was?</em>  She forced a short breath through her increasingly snotty nose. Dwelling on whys and what ifs would get her killed. Instead she pushed down her sorrow in favor of her growing, indignant rage. How <em> dare </em> he cross her? Did he think he could abandon her and get away with it? That shabla hut'uun would get what's coming to him. Hondo would suffer for his betrayal. In order to do that, she had to get off this station alive.</p><p>She picked up the pace. Her determination showed with every long stride, barely slowing when she passed others that might give her a second glance. It was quiet, and she wondered how many security personnel there were on the station. There couldn’t have been that many, or maybe their leadership was simply incompetent. If she’d been in charge she would have had checkpoints on every floor in multiple locations. Instead she passed through without incident until she finally arrived at the hanger.</p><p>Massive stacks of base metals and manufacturing components blocked half the landing platform from view. They used it as a holding bay, an intermediate step before they were transported to the shipyards. They simultaneously provided cover and created a maze for Cye to navigate through. She crept between stacks of crates, careful to tread lightly so her footsteps didn’t echo through the hanger. Muffled conversation grew louder as she moved further into the bay. She paused near the middle and peeked around a crate hauler to find the source of the voices.</p><p>A group of four agitated guards were checking ID cylinders and badges. They focused on a YT-2400 cargo vessel, opening crates before they were loaded, noting their contents, and harassing the crew. There were two VCX-100 freighters that looked fresh off the factory floor and a G9 rigger on the far end of the hanger. Cye backed away and hugged the wall, keeping herself at the backs of the security team. The G9 would suit her needs, and was more manageable for a single pilot than the VCX. More importantly, the G9 could do a timed jump to hyperspace without having to be in the cockpit.</p><p>As she came around the wall of crates a smaller vessel caught her eye. An HH-87 Starhopper sat with it’s secondary engines idling. The cockpit was wide open, practically begging to be flown. Whoever left it there was sure to be back soon. She considered waiting for the pilot to return, allowing them to distract security so she could pass by undetected to the G9.</p><p>“Hey!” The shout of the guard rang across the bay. She turned, cursing herself as one of the security thugs noticed her standing in half cover. “Authorized personnel only!” The human male marched over, his boots echoing as he stomped. “Who are you? Give me your ID.”</p><p>Cye rolled her eyes but stepped out from the crates, making sure the repulsorlift was clear as well in case she needed to make a break for it. She pulled the ID cylinder from her utility belt, hoping that it would still hold up against the scrutiny of their enhanced security measures. When he was close enough he snatched it from her outstretched hand.</p><p>“What the hell are you doing here? Access to all outgoing shipping platforms is completely restricted.” Sweat beaded on his brow, his voice was nasally and high pitched from stress. His eyes dilated as he slotted her ID into his datapad.</p><p>“I received a maintenance request for the G9, sir,” she explained, barely having to fake a tremor of confusion in her tone. “Instructions to fully detail the interior before it’s cleared for take off.”</p><p>The guards eyes narrowed as he waited for the datapad to verify her assumed identity. “We'll see about that.” She looked over the man’s shoulder, noting that two of the other guards had turned their attention to her.</p><p>“Well, can I at least get started?” Cye asked, impatience creeping into her wary tone. “I’ve got a hell of a mess to clean up as it is. I’d like to get back on schedule.”</p><p>“We all would,” the man said as he lowered the datapad without returning the cylinder. “Unfortunately for you, you’re scheduled for detailing the brig, <em> Mister </em> Halsid.” <em> Shab. </em> Gender never mattered under a T-visor. The ID was meant to get her through the design system’s security measures, not face to face verification. The guard pulled his blaster, ready to hold her as the others took the cue and ran towards them from across the platform.</p><p>Before he could bring the weapon up, Cye stepped in, batted his arm wide and slammed her forehead into his face. She was rewarded with a satisfying crunch as his nose buckled under the force of her Keldabe kiss. His body reeled and he wobbled on his feet. Cye took the opportunity to rip the blaster from his hand and shove him back. He fell on his shebs, the back of his head bouncing off the metal floor. She wasted no time in tapping the trigger, putting two blaster bolts through his chest.</p><p>The others opened fire, and Cye ducked behind the small, maintenance repulsorlift. The crew of the YT-2400 immediately took refuge in their ship. They were smart not to play hero, Cye thought as she opened fire on the three security guards. One had her arm up to her face, shouting into her comm for backup. Cye took her out first with a clean shot to the head. The others ducked behind crates, using cover to wait for reinforcements.  </p><p>There was no way she’d make it to the G9 before the platform was overrun with guards, so she backed her way towards the Starhopper. She knew she’d regret it later, but that was the only option she had left. As the ship entered the edge of her vision her mind raced as she figured out how to get inside without getting shot full of blaster bolts. Cye laid out suppressive fire while she opened the control panel on the repulsorlift until she needed both hands to work. She tugged out the wiring haphazardly, cutting several with her vibroblade, activating it and slicing the limiter in two. She inverted the power coupling and hauled the crate with her armor to the floor. </p><p>The facility door opened and a half dozen security guards poured in. Before they could raise their weapons Cye kicked the repulsorlift towards the floor to ceiling stack of crates. She tossed her armor box into the cockpit and launched herself up after it. As the repulsorlift connected with the crates it reached critical overload and exploded, creating a rain of heavy shrapnel from the stored parts. </p><p>“Oya, me’sen’ika,” she coaxed the Starhopper as she worked the controls. “Let’s get out of here.” </p><p>Without a second thought Cye began to charge the hyperspace engines as she sealed the cockpit. Security opened fire on the Starhopper, but their weapons weren’t made to take on the bulkhead of a starship. Their blaster bolts barely scoured the surface, even the viewport’s transparisteel held for the second before she raised the shields. Cye returned the favor, lighting up the hanger platform with the ship’s double laser cannons. She decimated the entirety of the space, turning crates into melted slag and people into piles of sticky ash before swinging the ship around and pushing the thrusters into high gear. </p><p>Getting out of orbit was the easy part. She turned off the ship’s tracking emitter and scrubbed the identification numbers. Cye wasn’t planning on going to a space port that would check for transponder codes. She flew in a reverse orbit, putting the planet in between her and the station to evade any sensor scans before flying out into open space. Cye piloted straight for an hour, fretting over the hyperspace jump when her comm buzzed, jerking her focus to a live feed transmission. Cye hooked her comm to the onboard computer and opened the channel.</p><p>Jango’s concerned frown filled the holoscreen. “Su cuy'gar Cye, where are you?”</p><p> </p><p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p>Mando'a Translations:</p><p><em>Shabla</em> - Fucked up / Fucking (adj)</p><p><em>Hut'uun</em> - Coward (worst possible insult)</p><p><em>Shab</em> - Fuck</p><p><em>Keldabe Kiss</em> - slang for head-butt</p><p><em>Shebs</em> - Backside, butt, ass</p><p><em>Oya</em> - Let's hunt (always positive and triumphant in context)</p><p><em>Me'sen'ika</em> - Little starship</p><p><em>Su cuy'gar</em> - Hello (lit. 'You're still alive')</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A Half Hour in Hyperspace</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's 29 BBY, and the future clone army are still only boys. Cye Mereel and her adopted brother Jango Fett agreed to Tyranus' offer for vengeance against the Jedi, but now they must decide if their choice to secure their father's legacy was the right one.</p><p>When she's betrayed and abandoned by her lover, Cye Mereel turns to the only person she has left in the galaxy in the hopes of starting over; Jango Fett. She's managed to escape Corellia station, but is still trapped in open space nonetheless.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi friends! I hope this next chapter provides you with some entertainment! I noticed that the end notes don't stay with each chapter, so I'm adding the Mando'a translations at the end of the text instead of the notes from now on. I should be able to add the next chapter by Thursday night. Enjoy Chapter 3!</p><p>The idea for this is based on a Star Wars roleplaying game (West End Games edition if anyone is wondering) my family and I are playing. I like the characters so much I wanted to write more stories about them! I hope that you get to love the characters as much as I do. This story is about Cye (pronounced 'Shay') Mereel, a Mandalorian bounty hunter. My goal is to be able to post more stories with our other characters in the weeks ahead. ~TB</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>BBY 29 - Open Space</p><p>Jango’s concerned frown filled the holoscreen. “<em> Su cuy’gar </em> Cye, where are you?”</p><p>“Right now? In open space near Corellia,” she replied, not bothering to hide her relief. “Trying to figure out where to go next. Any ideas?” She wanted to be snarky, but her voice cracked as she asked.</p><p>“Are you alright, <em>Ika’vod</em>? Are you hurt?” Concern pervaded brother’s tone. “What happened?”</p><p>Cye took a shuddering breath. “I was stealing top secret freighter schematics. Hondo was supposed to be there to get me off the station. He betrayed me. Left me to be caught and rot in some prison or worse.” Heat flared in her cheeks as she remembered the many times Jango warned her against her relationship with the pirate. “I had to fight my way off, and now I’m stuck in a Starhopper. I don’t know how I’m gonna get anywhere. You were right, <em>Jan’ika</em>. About everything.” Her voice caught in her throat as tears welled in her eyes. The hopelessness of her situation was crushing. She might be safe from capture from Corellian authorities, but she was trapped nevertheless. </p><p>“<em>Cye’ika</em>,” Jango said softly. “We can talk about that later. Right now, we have to get you home.” Home. Such a foreign concept, but one she welcomed in that moment. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. “Good. Now, it’s a straight shot on the Corellian Run to Tatooine. You fly there and I’ll meet you in Mos Espa.”</p><p>“That’s four hours in hyperspace,” Cye lamented. </p><p>“It’s weeks otherwise,” Jango said. “The other option is to stop at Denon and I’ll get Zam to meet you. Should only be thirty minutes tops. Besides she owes me a favor, so she can keep an eye on you while you recover.”</p><p>Both options were terrible, but Cye knew she could tolerate the clawdite bounty hunter more than she could four hours in hyperspace. “What the hell,” she said as she wiped her cheeks, “I haven’t actually met Zam as myself.” Jango’s worried frown cracked a fraction at her choking attempt at humor. “What are you going to tell her?”</p><p>“That I’m going to give her two thousand credits to watch over my sister,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone that bore no argument. “And if anything happens to you that she’ll be the first one to die.”</p><p>“I guess that’s one way to handle things.” Cye grimaced painfully at the navicomputer controls. “I better get this over with.”</p><p>“Hey.” The scar lines on Jango’s face creased heavily with his smile. “It’s going to be okay. You’ll get through the jump in one piece. I’ll see you within the next couple days, and we’ll spend some time with Boba on Kamino while you figure out your next move.”</p><p>Cye sniffled, but smiled back at her brother. “Alright <em>Ori’vod</em>. I’ll see you soon.”</p><p>“<em> Ni hukaat'kama </em> , <em>Ika’vod</em>.”</p><p>Jango ended the transmission, leaving the cockpit dark and foreboding as Cye started programming the navicomputer. As she finished calculations Jango sent another message with the coordinates to Zam’s RV point. Once it was all keyed and the computer beeped all Cye needed to do was initiate the jump to hyperspace.</p><p>She stared at the controls, willing herself to start the jump. Her hand wavered over them, her pulse pounding in her ears as sweat beaded on the back of her neck. Fear kept Cye locked in place, trembling until her arm ached at being held aloft.</p><p>“<em> Shab </em> ,” she whispered as she brought her hand back. “ <em> Nibral. Ni’duraa </em>!” she berated herself, but still didn’t activate the ship’s drive. With a growl she pried open the cleaning box with her armor. She ripped off strips of leather left over from her flak vest and tied them loosely together. Once it was long enough she put it over her eyes, cinching it tight to her head. Pushing up the edge of her makeshift blindfold she settled back into the pilot’s seat. With her hand back on the controls she covered her eyes again, shut them tight, and made the jump to hyperspace.</p><p>Everyone she’d ever flown with said they never had any problems, never felt any difference inside hyperspace than they did out of it. Cye envied them, being able to freely traverse the galaxy without needing a piece of <em>osik</em>, betraying ex lover of a pirate to ferry them about. </p><p>For her the moment of the jump was always the same. It started with a punch in the gut, knocking the wind from her lungs. Her head buzzed like she’d been slamming back shot after shot of <em>tihaar</em>. Her body felt as though she were falling in a dream, and then suddenly she was in hyperspace.</p><p>She gripped the sides of the chair, holding on tight enough that she lost feeling in her fingertips. She kept her eyes squeezed shut and began to count the minutes. </p><p>After five minutes, even through the blindfold, she swore she could see the kaleidoscopic swirl of hyperspace. She twisted in the chair until she was positive she was no longer facing the viewport. After ten minutes the blue streaks of tumbling light played in her mind. Bile rose in her throat, and she practiced her breathing exercises to keep the dizziness at bay. How could Jango tell her to fly all the way to Tatooine in this deathtrap?</p><p><em> Skies it’s hot in here </em>. Seventeen minutes in and she was soaked in sweat. All Cye wanted to do was rip the stupid leather blindfold from her eyes and gulp down a full canteen of water. A strange, dissonant chord rang in her ears, like the ending note of every song ever played in every shady cantina all at once. She rubbed her temples, trying to will the sound away when her finger snagged the edge of her blindfold and it slipped off her eyes.</p><p>Others who didn’t understand her condition would tell her that hyperspace is calming and hypnotic. That they wished they could stay and bathe in the zen-like effects it has on them. Those people were insane.</p><p>All Cye ever saw was a swirling mass of chaos that sent her reeling sideways. She couldn’t tell up from down, forward from backward, left from right. It overwhelmed her senses to the point where she couldn’t tell where she was, or how to move. Even in the cramped space of the Starhopper Cye lost her seat, tumbling in the small cockpit. Dizziness and nausea erupted from her gut and in seconds the contents of her stomach spread over the floor.</p><p>Cye curled up on the floor in her own vomit, tucking her knees up to her eyeballs to try and block out the spiraling maelstrom. She tucked her arm into her side and hissed as a sharp burning sensation blazed up her ribs. It was a knee jerk decision to look and when she did, all she saw was swarming blue light surrounding a red, oozing snake. </p><p>Bile rose again and she choked it down as she frantically waved her arm around the cabin searching blind for her armor. She grazed the box with the back of her hand, then flailed to grab a hold of it. Not wanting to lose it she tumbled forward pressing herself against it as she latched onto the edge of the box with her armor. She reached into it, her eyes still clenched shut despite the tears streaming down her cheeks, and sorted through the pieces until she felt the shoulder plate with her father’s <em> aliik </em> , Jaster Mereel’s mythosaur <em> kyr’bes </em>, and crushed it to her chest. </p><p>“<em> Ja’buir, gaa’tayl! Liniba kot’gar </em> ,” Cye sputtered between gasps. She focused on her father, on the first time she experienced crippling hyperspace vertigo. She’d been so happy to leave Concord Dawn for the first time on her 6th birthday. Excitement at learning how to pilot Jaster’s starship quickly morphed to confusion and terror when they made the practice jump to hyperspace. ‘ <em> K’oyacyi </em> ,’ he said gently as he calmed her down and cleaned up the mess. ‘ <em> K’oyacyi, Cye’ika. Gar aala jate’shya mhi yaim’ol </em>.’</p><p>Twenty six minutes in and she’d managed to keep from vomiting again. She forced herself to focus on survival. Her head swam and her eyes played tricks on her behind her closed eyelids, but at least she was sitting up. Her side was sticky and warm. Somehow she’d managed to cut herself some, but she wasn’t about to open her eyes to do anything about it, not until it was safe.</p><p>Twenty eight minutes in and the navicomputer beeped incessantly, announcing that the ship would need to leave hyperspace shortly. The next thirty seconds were the most tense part of the trip as she got to her knees and hunted blindly over the controls for the right lever. Once she found it she didn’t wait for the ship to prompt her, she simply powered down and slumped to the floor once again, hoping the <em>manda</em> wouldn’t take her just yet.</p><p>The trip ended like it began. Cye pressed her back against a panel, trying to fight the sensation of free floating in the void. Then she slammed into reality, coughing and gasping for breath like she had the wind knocked out of her as the ship left hyperspace. </p><p>“<em> Fierfek </em>.” The croaking voice barely sounded like her. She gradually uncurled herself from around her father’s pauldron and began to feel around for the chair. Her body quivered as she pulled herself into the seat. On the count of three, then five, and finally seven, Cye opened her eyes. She collapsed back in a whimper to see Denon filling the viewport. </p><p>Blood coated the right side of her maintenance jumper. She pulled at the uniform and saw that she’d cut straight through her <em> kute </em>in a jagged zigzag. “Damn it,” Cye said as she looked around the floor and eyed the culprit. Her vibroblade was lodged under a side panel. She bent down and pulled it out, knowing how lucky she’d been that it hadn’t been activated. It would have sliced straight through her ribcage and she’d have bled out already.</p><p>She held the blade in her trembling grip and cut away the fabric enough to see the wound better then tossed it into the box with her armor so she wouldn’t have another accident. She pried out a bacta patch from her utility belt and unfolded it. Carefully she pressed it against the cut, holding her breath as sealed it against her skin. That would hold until she got planetside. Her head pounded as she took over the ship’s controls. She pulled up the HUD and flew to the coordinates Jango provided.</p><p>Denon reminded her of Coruscant. The city planet didn’t go as deep as Coruscant did, but it was just as dirty. She flew beyond the major districts to the quadrants of the megacity where they wouldn’t ask questions about her ship or her current state. She wondered what kind of impression she would make on Zam and if Jango would be embarrassed by her first real introduction to the woman who saved his life on Kholma.</p><p>Cye dived into the city towards the specified landing platform. It looked to be attached to a casino. A transmission came and she patched in through the ship’s comm. “What?”</p><p>A woman chuckled on the other end. “I was going to ask who this was, but I don’t need to ask you anything to know you’re Jango’s blood.”</p><p>“Zam Wesell?”</p><p>“The very same. Set down on the north end, I’ll meet you out there.”</p><p>Cye clicked off the transmission and steadied the ship to land as instructed. As she powered down a petite woman with short blonde hair wearing a form fitting purple dress walked towards the ship with a bag under her arm. Cye opened the cockpit and sucked in the cool air. She made it.</p><p>“Oh sweetie, you look like warm bantha fodder.” Cye’s eyes snapped open, not realizing she’d closed them. Zam had climbed up to the cockpit and sat with her legs swinging casually over the edge. She grinned as her nose wrinkled. “And you smell like it too. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”<br/><br/><br/>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br/><br/></p><p>
  <span class="u"> Mando'a Translations </span>
</p><p><em> Su cuy’gar - </em>Hello (lit. 'You're still alive')</p><p><em>Ika’vod -</em> Little sister (vod'ika is a common term to use with any close friend or relatives, but this is what Jango uses for Cye specifically)</p><p><em> Ori'vod </em> - Big brother / Older brother</p><p><em>-’ika - </em>diminutive suffix written as 'ika - also added to a name as a very familiar or childhood form</p><p><em>Ni hukaat'kama - </em>I've got your back.</p><p><em>Shab - </em>Fuck</p><p><em>Nibral. Ni’duraa!</em> - Loser/Failure. You disgust me!</p><p><em>Osik - </em>Shit</p><p><em>Tihaar - </em>alcoholic drink - strong clear spirit made from fruit</p><p><em>Aliik - </em>sigil, symbol on armor</p><p><em>Kyr’bes - </em>skull, especially mythosaur skull - coll. Crown</p><p><em>Buir (Ja’buir) - </em>Father/Mother/Parent (the name Cye used with her father, Jaster)</p><p><em>Gaa’tayl! Liniba kot’gar - </em>Help! I need your strength</p><p><em>K’oyacyi - </em>Hang in there. Literally, a command; *Stay alive!*</p><p><em>Gar aala jate’shya mhi yaim’ol - </em>You'll feel better when we get home</p><p><em>Manda - </em>the collective soul or heaven - the state of being Mandalorian in mind, body and spirit - also supreme, overarching, guardian-like</p><p><em>Fierfek - </em>Huttese curse, similar to <em>Shab</em> but more widely used by non-Mandalorians</p><p><em>Kute - </em>underwear, bodysuit, something worn under armor</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Zam Wesell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's 29 BBY, and the future clone army are still only boys. Cye Mereel and her adopted brother Jango Fett agreed to Tyranus' offer for vengeance against the Jedi, but now they must decide if their choice to secure their father's legacy was the right one.</p><p>Hi there! I changed the title of the story from Searching for Mirjahaal to Jaster's Legacy. This is my first fanfic and I'm horrible at titles, and as I thought more on it I decided that Jaster's Legacy is more appropriate as the story progresses towards the Clone War era. Sorry if this causes any confusion. ~TB</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi friends! It's been fun getting back into writing again. I hope that you all are enjoying the story as it unfolds. Happy reading! ~TB</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>29 BBY - Denon</p><p>“That sounds awful,” Zam said with earnest sympathy. She tied the knot on the last stitch into Cye’s side. “And it happens every time?”</p><p>The clawdite bounty hunter was nothing like Cye had expected. Most were amoral, ruthless, and only cared about the credits the next job would bring. Zam was all of those things, but she was also---interesting. Of course she was all about the job, looking after Cye <em> was the job </em>. But she had a disarming charm and relaxed attitude that was unique in the profession. Cye found herself enjoying the woman’s company. </p><p>“Ever since I can remember. I stay away from cockpits and viewports whenever I’m in space. It’s safer that way, for everyone.” The bounty hunter was beyond curious about the events that brought her here, and Cye found it easy to talk to Zam about her hyperspace vertigo and even her doomed relationship with Hondo Ohnaka. </p><p>“You’re very brave then. I don’t know if I would have been able to put myself through that on purpose.”</p><p>“It was either that or starve over weeks of sub-light travel without provisions,” Cye replied with a grunt as she sat up. She twisted to view the stitched wound, wrinkling her nose against the uncomfortable tug of her skin stretching over her ribs. Every tie was neatly done and evenly spaced. It would heal into a smooth scar. She nodded in satisfaction at the woman’s handiwork. “A med droid couldn’t do better. Thank you.”</p><p>“Just another service I’m happy to provide,” Zam replied with a wink and sealed a bacta patch over her work. “For the right price.”</p><p>“I hope you get your money’s worth.” </p><p>“Jango’s credits are always welcome. This is the easiest job yet.” Zam stepped back, her eyes glittering with mischief as she smirked. “But I would have rescued you from Corellia for free.” Cye frowned, her eyes squinting as she attempted to judge Zam’s meaning.<em> Is she flirting with me? </em>That only elicited a round of laughter from the woman. “That face! Just like your brother.”</p><p>“What face?”</p><p>“Oh come on.” Zam put her hand on Cye’s shoulder and shook her head with a knowing smile. “You have that same ‘do I have to kill this person’ scowl as Jango. You know, I didn’t believe him when he told me the job was watching over his sister. I honestly still didn’t believe him until just now.”</p><p>Cye let out a huff of amusement. She wasn’t about to correct her. Then again, they’d grown up together, fought together; <em> killed </em>together, so maybe there were more similarities than differences between her and Jango. Zam didn’t need to know that family is more than blood to Mandalorians. This woman was fearless with her opinions. She had an adventurous spirit that pulled at Cye’s protective emotional shell. She seemed to smother the aching loss Cye felt by her mere presence. The edge of Cye’s mouth curled up. </p><p>“That’s pretty much his default expression for everything.”</p><p>Zam grinned back. “We’ll keep that just between us girls, yeah?” </p><p>“That works for me.” Cye tried to force a smile but it came across as more of a pained smirk.</p><p>“Good.” Zam held out her hand to help Cye stand. “Come on, let’s clean you up and get you some clothes. There’s no way in hell I’m going to let you back into that filthy maintenance jumpsuit.”</p><p>“It wasn’t mine anyway,” Cye said. Zam was stronger than she looked, yet soft to touch. She didn’t have a single callus on her hand. Perhaps it had to do with her clawdite physiology. “But I don’t have anything else. Even my <em> kute </em> is cut up.”</p><p>“Not to mention covered in puke. I’m sure I have a few things that will fit you.” She didn’t let go of Cye’s hand. Instead she pulled her along with a gentle yet persistent grip. “I’m not always this petite,” Zam said with a flirtatious grin and conspiratorial eyebrow. “I’m not always a woman either.” Cye’s mouth hung open, prompting laughter from the other bounty hunter. Did she treat Jango this way too? Maybe that’s why he kept her at arm’s length. Zam certainly knew how to get a reaction from her.</p><p>She led Cye to the ‘fresher, pulling out a couple towels and hooking them by the shower. There was enough room for two, Cye thought in passing as she glanced back at Zam who stood by watching her as Cye began to peel out of the torn undersuit. “I can take it from here. Thanks.”</p><p>“Are you sure? I don’t mind.” Zam raised a delicate eyebrow. “I’m happy to help. Besides, I don’t need you slipping. Jango would-”</p><p>“I’ll be fine,” Cye cut her off, trying to keep the creeping annoyance from her tone. She wasn’t some <em> ik'aad </em> to be coddled. “I appreciate your, uh, enthusiasm for the job.” She wasn’t sure what else to call it. “But I’ll manage.”</p><p>“Suit yourself,” Zam replied. There was a flash of disappointment in her eyes, but she covered it up with a smile. “Shout if you need anything.” With that she turned on her heel and strode out of the ‘fresher. Cye thought she heard the woman mumble something about stubborn Fetts, but she wasn’t going to draw attention to it.</p><p>Cye tossed her ruined <em> kute </em> to the floor and turned on the hot water. She stopped at the mirror, inspecting herself for any other injuries before the glass fogged up. Other than the laceration across her ribs there were only superficial bruises. They’d disappear in a few days. Her <em> uj’ayl </em>brown eyes were redrimmed and bloodshot. Her normally tawny olive complexion was a pale, blotchy gold. She looked about as well as she felt, like hell.  She ran her hand down her right cheek, her fingertips finding the faded lines of the scar that spread like a web between her temple and jaw. She wondered what the woman in the other room saw when she looked at Cye, and that led her thoughts back to Hondo. Her reflection fogged away in the mist so she didn’t have to see the tears that threatened to form once again. </p><p>Near-scalding water beat against her shoulders as she stood under the flow. She supported herself with one arm leaning heavily against the cold tile wall as the heat melted the stiffness and stress she’d put her body through to get there. Cye had no desire to move, not until she could control the ache slowly crushing her chest and the roiling anger building behind her eyes. She let her mind wander instead, thinking and rethinking every good memory, every argument, and every job trying to pinpoint the moment that things fell apart.</p><p>Had Hondo known something when he’d told her he didn’t want to take the job to steal the plans? She didn’t think so. Hondo always hated infiltration jobs. He always said they were too much effort for too little reward. Cye preferred being able to blend in, get what she came for, and leave without a trace. The weequay pirate preferred being the face, smuggling and selling weapons, contraband, and spice. Cye hated negotiating prices and dealing with the scum of the galaxy while Hondo reveled in it. It was what made them such a good team. </p><p>Hondo’s betrayal completely blindsided her. There wasn’t anything she could think of that would have told her the end was near. Either his decision was made on a whim or she’d misread everything about their relationship. Neither option made her feel any better. </p><p>“Damn you, H,” Cye spat as she hit the wall with her fist. Pain flared down her fingers as her knuckles popped. She shook her hand out and sighed before reaching for the soap. No matter what way she turned it over she’d let her feelings cloud her judgement. There was no one she could blame but herself.</p><p> </p><p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p>
  <span class="u">Mando'a Translations</span>
</p><p><em> Kute -  </em>underwear, bodysuit, something worn under armor</p><p><em> Ik'aad -  </em>baby, child under 3</p><p><em> Uj'ayl -  </em>thick, spiced syrup used in cooking</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Fett's Don't Know How to Have Fun</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Zam Wesell tries to draw Cye out of her shell more and invites her to do a simple job for a fun night out.</p><p>It's 29 BBY, and the future clone army are still only boys. Cye Mereel and her adopted brother Jango Fett agreed to Tyranus' offer for vengeance against the Jedi, but now they must decide if their choice to secure their father's legacy was the right one.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jango answered the transmission only moments after Zam opened the channel. The interior of Slave I filled the background, and she was surprised that he’d not put on his signature armor yet. He must have left in a hurry. “You’re a sight for sore eyes. You never told me you had a sister.” Zam pouted at Jango’s holo-image. “I’m hurt.”</p><p>“You didn’t need to know,” he replied. “And that intel goes no farther than you. Got it?”</p><p>“I know, I know. If you find out someone else knows your little secret, you’ll kill me. This isn’t my first show, honey.” She waived his comment away with her hand. “She’s cute.”</p><p>“Don’t even think about it, Zam,” he said through his clenched jaw. Zam was good at what she did, and she knew he hated how much she teased him.</p><p>“Think about what?” She asked, feigning innocence. “I’m just making conversation, Jango.”</p><p>“If it’s not about where I can find Hondo I don’t want to discuss it,” he replied. “What did Cye tell you?”</p><p>Zam flashed a grin. “She told me a lot of things, some even about you. As far as the job went though she was stealing schematics for the latest CEC freighter for Lantillian Shipwrights. Well, stealing back their design that is. But,” Zam shrugged, “I sent out feelers to my contacts at most of the places she thinks he might have gone. So far no hits. The only place I don’t have any friends yet is Florrum.”</p><p>“Florrum?”</p><p>“Yep,” Zam replied with a nod. “Cye mentioned they’d set up a safe house there. Hondo has some grand ideas about making it his base of operations.”</p><p>“There’s no way he has enough fuel to get there from Corellia.” Jango keyed in the information on the system and let the program calculate a course. “If he got the plans, Lantillies is on the way to Florrum. The best spot to refuel too.”</p><p>“I can leave as soon as you get here.”</p><p>Jango shook his head. “Not this time.”</p><p>“But-”</p><p> “This is personal, Zam. It shouldn’t take me long to track him down.” Jango plotted a course on his navicomputer. “I’ll reach you through holo when I’m on my way to Denon.”</p><p>“You don’t want to tell Cye your plan?” Zam asked. Her head cocked to the side as Jango frowned.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“No? Just, no?”</p><p>“I’ll tell her once it’s finished. Just keep an eye on her, Zam. Alright?”</p><p>“Hey, it’s your credits. I’m just spending them,” Zam replied with a smirk before glancing over her shoulder. She wasn’t sure when the shower had stopped running. “I gotta go. Good luck.”</p><p>She cut the transmission before he had a chance to reply.</p><hr/><p>Cye leaned against the wall wearing only a towel out of view as she listened to the conversation. She lowered her head, staring at her hand, splaying her fingers and then balling them into a fist. The scar she earned when she punched a trandoshian in the face barehanded at fourteen stretched across her middle knuckle as she made a fist. Her pinkie bent away from her palm at an awkward angle as she extended her fingers. Tor Vizsla broke it before he threw her and Jango into slavery after the massacre at Galidraan. It healed poorly and she never bothered to fix it once they were free. She couldn’t change the past, and she kept every scar, every injury as a reminder of what she’d overcome. The wound across her ribs was just another painful lesson learned. </p><p>She was in no position to object to Jango’s intervention, even if she wanted to. She barely knew Zam, and didn’t trust anyone but her brother to fly her anywhere at this point. She let out a long sigh and pushed away from the wall. She was stuck on Denon until he took care of Hondo, and there was no point in directing her anger towards Jango or Zam, even if they went behind her back to solve her problem. </p><p>Zam nearly ran into her as she turned the corner. “Oh, there you are,” she said with a bright smile. “I was getting worried you might not come out of the ‘fresher.” She noticed Cye’s balled fist and her smile slipped for a flash. “Uh, how long have you been standing there?”</p><p>“Long enough,” Cye replied. Her jaw worked and her frown grew as she reminded herself that Zam wasn’t the problem. She shook out her fingers as she stared hard at Zam. She hadn’t noticed before how small the other bounty hunter was before. The woman barely reached chin height. Zam’s narrow shoulders and slim frame made her seem almost childlike when compared to her. Cye tried to relax and offered a nonchalant shrug.</p><p>“Ah, so. Yeah.” Zam seemed to falter, stumbling over what to say next. “You’re not mad, are you?”</p><p>“I’m livid, actually.” Cye unclenched her teeth, forcing a frustrated snort through her nose. “But not at you. Or Jango.” Zam opened her mouth to speak but Cye held her hand up. “I don’t want to talk about it.”</p><p>“Fair enough.” The clawdite took a step back, eyeing Cye warily for several heartbeats before a knowing smile touched her lips. “How would you like to help me on a job?”</p><p>“What kind of job?” Cye turned her head, her brow furrowed in confusion. </p><p>“A simple tail and tag,” Zam replied. “My client was wronged and is out for blood. A typical quest for revenge. Easy money. What do you say? I’ll even split the reward.”</p><p>Cye rolled over the offer in her mind, quickly going over the pros and cons before coming to the conclusion that she’d need to start making money on her own. She couldn’t be picky about the job, and Zam exuded confidence about the odds of success. Jango wouldn’t be there for some time yet if he was chasing down Hondo. Cye had nothing better to do besides wait and wallow, so she nodded. It would take her mind off H and give her something else to focus on. </p><p>“Sure, why not.”</p><p>“Great!” Zam snatched her hand and squeezed it with a laugh “Let’s get you some clothes. Then we can have some fun.”</p><p>The bedroom Zam led her to was larger than some cantinas she’d been to. Windows looked out on Denon’s cityscape, letting the afternoon light spill into the room. The massive bed looked like it could fit at least five people. She wondered if it was that big out of necessity. Everything Cye had ever owned could fit in there with room to spare. The closest thing she’d had for comparison was the safehouse she shared with Jango in Coruscant’s undercity. Cye imagined that this was what Hondo aspired for on Florrum. She gnashed her teeth at the unbidden thought and forced it aside before she had time to dwell on it further.</p><p>Zam bought out armfuls of clothes for her to look through. A lot of credits went into having this many quality clothes. <em> Tevrin would be impressed </em>, Cye thought as she began to sort through them. The Coruscant seamstress would die to see Cye dressing in something more than her normal drab ensemble. </p><p>“Don’t you have anything- I don’t know, plainer?” Cye held up a short, black lacy dress in one hand and a bright gold jumpsuit in the other. “I thought this was a tail and tag. Shouldn’t we be trying to blend into the background more?”</p><p>“Life is too short to wear boring clothes,” Zam replied. “Besides, sometimes the easiest way to blend in is to stand out.” She pushed aside the pile and pulled out a long, midnight blue dress from under the flashier clothes. “Here, try this one on.” The smooth fabric glided over her skin easily despite how tight it was, and as it did the deep blue color changed all manner of hues between teal and violet. Cye held out her arms, trying to figure out how the dress changed colors. </p><p>“It’s heat and motion sensitive. I got it on a trip to Zeltros,” Zam explained as she looked her over with an appraising eye. Cye couldn’t help turning in place, watching the way the fabric morphed against her skin. <em> Of course a clawdite would own clothes like this </em>. The smaller woman hummed in a judging tone. “Hmm, that shade’s perfect, but I think it covers up too much. You gotta show off that body, girl,” Zam said with a cheeky grin.</p><p>“I doubt the people you parade around wearing these want to see all my scars,” Cye replied as she took the hem of the dress and lifted it over her head.</p><p>“Are you kidding? Your scars are the best part!” Zam sauntered over and half helped, half forced Cye out of the dress. “I’ve always said that scars make the man. Well, woman in this case.” </p><p>The clawdite glossed over her body, eyes flickering from one battle scar to the next, a playful smile on her lips. Heat rose in Cye’s cheeks. Zam’s fingterips brushed the raised, lumpy scar on her hip. Cye stepped out of reach towards the pile of clothes, and cleared her throat.</p><p>“Maybe I don’t want to show them off,” Cye grumbled and picked up a pair of stretchy black pants and the first loose top she could find. </p><p>Soft giggles erupted from Zam. She shook her head, the playful smile making her beautifully carefree. “Oh, honey. You are so like your brother. You two could be the same person. Two halves of the same bounty puck.” Cye rolled her eyes but kept her mouth pressed in a tight frown. <em> You have no idea. </em> “Let’s at least get some more outfits picked out. I can get us into the best clubs on the planet. I’ll make sure you have such a great time you’ll forget all about Hondo.”</p><p>“You don’t have to do that.” A jumble of emotions mixed when she said his name. Cye hated him yet felt his loss keenly. </p><p>“Nonsense. Jango told me to look after you while you recover,” she said. She leaned over the pile and snagged another dress, this one pale green with a slit nearly all the way up one side. “I know he only meant the vertigo, but I’ve had my fair share of broken hearts. And I know just how to help you recover from that too.”</p><p>Zam gave Cye a flirtatious wink as she twirled with the dress. <em> The sheer boldness of the woman </em>, Cye thought even as she rewarded her with a smirk and a snort. She could see why Jango liked her. </p><p>“Fine. But I prefer red.”</p><p>The petite woman grinned, showing off her unnaturally white teeth. “Deal.”</p><hr/><p>Cye stood back from the mirror, admiring how the scarlet dress hugged her body. Zam let her borrow a set of gold arm cuffs to accentuate her biceps. The dress ended mid thigh. It was the first time she’d worn anything that left her legs so exposed and as much as it was uncomfortable Cye had to admit that Zam might be right about showing off her scars; a few of them at least.  She certainly felt more like a person than the filthy meatsack she was when she first landed on Denon. Her skin cleared up, and her eyes were no longer puffy and red. She almost looked---pretty.</p><p>She ran her fingers through her loose curls. It had been a few months since she kept her hair down for more than a few minutes. It had grown quite a bit, well past her shoulders to almost the middle of her back. Her knife was in the bag Zam brought with the rest of her armor so she couldn’t cut it. Maybe she’d try keeping it long for a while. At least until it interfered with her helmet. Still, wearing it free in public <em> and </em> wearing what she was made her gut twinge with nerves. Cye sucked in an uncertain breath and then began braiding her hair.</p><p>“I have some gold heels that will look great with the dress, oh,” Zam appeared with a pair of strappy heels in one hand and knee length black boots in the other. “You’re not leaving it down?”</p><p>Cye gave a slight shake as her fingers worked deftly to plait her hair in a crown around her head. It was the style her mother had shown her the first time she’d got her hair caught in the harvester. It was an efficient hairstyle, and her go-to for suiting up in her beskar’gam.</p><p>“Aww, but it looks so nice down,” Zam said with a pouting frown. </p><p>“Don’t push your luck, Zam.”</p><p>“What is it with you Fett’s and not knowing how to have fun?” Zam asked over her shoulder as she went into her closet.  Cye thought about correcting her about Cye’s clan name, but shook her head instead. Zam didn’t need to know if Jango hadn’t told her himself. “I swear it’s like Jango only knows how to be grumpy and kill people. I thought you might have had some good stories, especially since you ran with pirates.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t say I have good stories,” Cye admitted. Hondo enjoyed making pirating a social event. Cye chose not to join in most of the time, and when she did it was when H wanted to flex some muscle to one of his cronies or business partners trying to give him a bad deal. </p><p>“That can’t be true,” Zam said as she came out with a slip of violet fabric. She began stripping out of her clothes as she continued. "There has to be at least one that's halfway entertaining."</p><p>“Well, uh,” Cye’s answer was lost as Zam’s flesh rippled and the scant dress seemed to adhere seamlessly to her body. “Did- did you just change your shape to fit the dress?”</p><p>“Of course! One of the many perks of shapeshifting, a perfect fit every time.” It was unsettling to think that the woman in front of her could become someone else so easily. As far as Cye knew there was no way to identify Zam when she took another form. She had no birthmarks or scars, and Cye was positive that the sparkle in her eyes wouldn’t be there either. “So, since you’ve never had a good time, <em> allegedly </em>,” Zam said with an exaggerated eyeroll before her face lit up with a grin, “let’s go have some fun.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Tracking Down Hondo</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jango Fett decides to take matters into his own hands and confront Hondo Ohnaka.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi friends! Thank you so much for the kudos and bookmarks! I'm so glad you have enjoyed the story enough to let me know. I debated on whether to switch POV, but ultimately decided it would show how far Jango is willing to go for family. I hope you like it!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>29 BBY - Lantillies</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jango wasted no time once he saw the Weequay Flarestar leaving the planet. Before they could break orbit he took out their engines then whipped around to blast the laser cannons, disabling them with swift precision. He followed the descending ship as it struggled to stay in the air. Ultimately the thrusters gave out and the saucer plummeted, skipping across the open ground leaving a trail of twisted metal in its wake. Once it skidded to a stop Jango landed Slave I beside the smoking wreckage, intent on finishing the job face to face to make sure that </span>
  <em>
    <span>di’kut</span>
  </em>
  <span> Hondo was dead with his own eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d left Kamino soon after MU-12 relayed the message. It had been a few months since Cye checked in last. When he heard the wavering voice message she left he set to work finding out where she was and where Hondo decided to go without her. Zam had proven useful again in more ways than one. The clawdite was the only other person in the galaxy he came close to trusting, and how she handled things with Cye would either cement or break their alliance. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The ground crunched under his boots as he exited the ship and stormed towards Hondo’s saucer. Cold wrath propelled him forward, and he aimed to kill as several of the pirates spilled out of the saucer haphazardly shooting their blasters. Jango whipped out his custom Westar pistols and returned fire. He tumbled forward, ducking their wild shots then launched himself upwards with his jetpack. With the height advantage he negated their cover and they slumped over dead before he hit the ground.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jango turned on his helmet’s infrared targeting system to see through the thick smoke filling the hallway. He didn’t bother stealthing through the ship. He wanted Hondo to know he was coming. He wanted the weequay pirate to know </span>
  <em>
    <span>who</span>
  </em>
  <span> was coming for him. Cold wrath fueled every step, and he left a wake of death in his path as he worked his way through the ship. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His HUD picked up movement on the floor as he turned a corner by the storage hold. A weequay was trapped beneath a stack of toppled crates. He squirmed and wriggled like krill caught in an aiwha’s maw, unable to free his lower half.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please, help, I’m stuck,” the weequay called out to Jango. His pained, hopeful expression turned to one of terror as he made out the Mandalorian’s signature silhouette. “Oh no. No, no, no. Don’t hurt me. It wasn’t my idea.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pathetic,” Jango hissed as he pressed his boot hard enough to crack the man’s chest, pinning him to the floor. “Where is Hondo?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“H-Hondo’s on the b-br-bridge,” the pirate sputtered. “He was f-f-flying. He-he’s probably st-still there.” Jango pointed his blaster at the man who squealed in protest and flailed under his boot. “Please! Please d-don’t-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The blaster bolt silenced the weequay’s pleas. Jango sneered down at the waste of sentience, then stalked towards the small bridge section of the craft. The door was sealed, the controls fried from the inside. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Good. He’s still inside.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He flipped open one of his belt pouches and pulled out a doormaker. He unraveled the det cord and pressed it against the door before setting the timer. Once it was live he ducked around the corner, both blasters in hand and waited for the explosion rocked the ship and sent the door flying into the bridge.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stepped cautiously through the hole where the door once was, careful to avoid the heated metal shrapnel edges. A flash of movement on his left caught his attention and he whirled, both blasters pointed at the source of motion. Hondo rose from behind the navigator’s chair, his hands open and out in front of him as a sign of surrender.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hadn’t expected you so soon, Jango,” Hondo said with a carefree chuckle. “I’m actually quite impressed. Sad to lose a good ship, not so sad to lose my crew. They are easier to replace.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You won’t have to worry about either,” Jango growled. He tensed, ready to shoot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait! Before you kill me you should know I left her to protect her,” Hondo said quickly, his normally easygoing charisma gone as he shut his eyes to wait for the end.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If Hondo only hopped to delay the inevitable, it worked. The desperation in the pirate’s voice gave him pause. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What could this hut’uun be protecting Cye from?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Jango flipped his blasters into their holsters as he stepped towards the pirate. Hondo flinched expecting blaster fire, then opened his eyes in surprise only to be met with Jango’s armored fist. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The weequay reeled back, covering his face protectively with one hand while holding the other arm out as blood gushed from his broken nose. Jango sidestepped the sad attempt of a block and hammered his other fist into the man’s gut. Hondo doubled over as his wind left him in a coughing fit. Before he could take a breath Jango’s gauntleted fingers wrapped around his neck and slammed him into the bulkhead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have one chance to get this right,” Jango hissed through ground teeth. “Or I’ll rip off your braids and whip you to death with them.” He released the weequay and Hondo collapsed to the floor, sucking in air in a shuddering gasp. Jango took a step back, ready to pull his blaster again if necessary.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hondo got on his hands and knees, slowly pulling himself up using the navigation chair for support. “I took a job a month ago.” His voice came out in a nasally rasp as he pinched his nose to stop the bleeding. “Moving arms to a buyer on Concordia.” He paused, an embarrassed frown darkening his bruised features. “I knew Mandos were the buyers and so I kept Cye out of it. But these weren’t normal mercs. They called themselves Deathwatch.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Jango froze. They were supposed to be gone. They’d killed them. He watched Tor Vizsla die with his own eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know, but-” Hondo yelped as Jango closed the distance between them and wrapped his arm around the weequay’s seclusion braids.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Time’s up, Hondo,” Jango said in a cool monotone voice. He wasn’t going to let anyone help Deathwatch come back. He activated the vibro blade in his vambrace and held it an inch away from the pirate’s ear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait! Wait,” Hondo cried as he fought against Jango’s grip. “They didn’t get the weapons! I didn’t sell them! Cye, she told me what they did to her. To you! I called off the deal, said I wouldn’t deal with them. That I got a better offer. We killed three of them before they retreated.” The resonant hum of the blade froze Hondo where he stood, but he kept talking. “I was done with them, I swear. But they contacted me. Their leader, a young man named Vizsla, Pre Vizsla, he said he knew about Cye and that if I didn’t hand her over he would find us and kill us all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So you just abandoned her like a coward?” Jango bellowed and slammed Hondo’s face against the navi-computer. The vibro blade sunk into the metal and sparks flew from the console, singeing Hondo’s braids. “What about the job? The plans?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No! I- I made it up! The whole job. I only picked Lantillies because it was on the way to Florrum! Listen. Please. He told me terrible things, Jango. Things that he wanted to do to her, that he wanted to use her to find you. To avenge his father’s death.” He turned his head far enough to look into Jango’s helmeted eyes. “I couldn’t let that happen. I didn’t want her to get hurt, or worse, go after those bastards and get caught by them. So I left her on Corellia.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And to save your sorry shebs as well.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“To save us both!” Hondo shouted. “I thought if she were angry enough she wouldn’t come back to me and put herself in danger. I love her!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jango wrenched Hondo up by his braids. If Cye had trusted him enough to share what happened to them after Galidraan, then he had to trust that the pirate spoke the truth. If Vizsla did have a child, they would be old enough to seek revenge.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> stay away from Vizsla. And Deathwatch,” Jango warned. “If I find out that you or anyone you deal with does business with them, I’ll come for you first.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I won’t, I swear,” Hondo sputtered as he struggled to keep his feet under him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you’ll </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> contact Cye ever again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Never! I won’t even be in the same sector as her!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll let you live. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This time.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Jango punctuated his promise with a swift punch to Hondo’s side and a knee to his groin. As the weequay buckled, Jango flicked his wrist with the vibro blade, slicing through the pirate’s seclusion braids. Hondo collapsed to the floor. Without another word he turned his back to the fallen man and stalked away, braids still in his grip as he made his way back through the wreckage to Slave I.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p><span class="u">Mando'a and Other Translations</span>:</p>
<p><em>Di'kut -  </em>idiot, useless individual, waste of space (lit. someone who forgets to put their pants on)</p>
<p><em>Aiwha - </em>also called air whales, were a non-sentient species of winged cetaceans native to the planet Kamino. </p>
<p><em>Hut'uun - </em>coward (worst possible insult for a Mandalorian)</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Tail and Tag</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>While they wait Jango's arrival, Zam takes Cye out on a simple tail and tag job. Find the target and take them out. What better way to help someone through a rough breakup!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for reading my story and the kudos you've given. I appreciate you all so much! We're getting close to wrapping up this arc and moving onto Kamino! I hope you enjoy this next chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“We make a good team,” Zam said as she hooked her arm through Cye’s. The casual touch made her tense, but the smaller woman only pulled her closer with a laugh. “Relax. I don’t bite.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We haven’t done anything yet,” Cye replied as they walked through the crowd, weaving their way to the back of the club towards the private casino. Zam’s client said their mark was here, enjoying some high stakes gambling. The ploy was simple enough. Gain access to the back room, get close to the mark, take him out discreetly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just have a good feeling.” She flashed Cye a stunning smile. “I like your hair up like that. You look great. Fierce.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, I think.” Cye was glad that the club light glowed with an orange hue. It helped mask the flush of heat she felt in her cheeks. She wasn’t sure what Zam was trying to do, but Cye had to admit to herself that she was enjoying the other woman’s compliments at least. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Under different circumstances..</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Cye let the thought linger as they approached the broad, hairless, gray-skinned humanoid with cloudy silver eyes standing by the entrance to the back room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They held up a meaty hand, partially blocking the entrance. “Invitation only.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Would we be coming back here if we weren’t invited?” Zam asked innocently. “We were sent here from Vorm Ral as a gift to Oril Nenba. Well, I was. My escort is here for Sabacc. Is he not here yet?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cye wasn’t sure which name scared the bouncer more. They looked over their shoulder, squinting, as if weighing what would bring them more trouble, letting Cye and Zam in or turning them away. Their brow creased along with their tight frown. Before the bouncer had a chance to decline their entry she stepped up, invading their space and leaning towards their earhole.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ral spent good money on my girl here,” Cye crooned as she let her hand glide down Zam’s side, accentuating the other woman’s curves. Zam leaned into her touch, making a show of it. Cye wished she wouldn’t, but she was in no place to object and it made for a good show. “If I have to go back and tell him Oril didn’t get the chance to enjoy his merchandise, well,” Cye leaned back and adjusted their collar, patting their shoulder, and offering them a knowing smile, “I’ll make sure Ral knows who prevented the exchange.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Silver eyes flashed between her, Zam, and a group at a card table towards the center of the room. Cye stared at them, keeping a level expression. After a tense moment the bouncer blinked and stepped aside. “Just don’t cause any trouble.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she replied and walked past, snapping her fingers at Zam to prompt her to follow. When they were beyond hearing range the clawdite sidled up beside her and hooked arms once again. This time Cye didn’t flinch. Her eyes darted around the room, assessing the people around her for threats and planning how they would make their escape if things went south here. She paused as she caught Zam smiling up at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Cye asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I liked the way you called me your girl,” she said playfully. “I could get used to that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Zam-” She couldn’t think of a fast to say that she was flattered but no matter how easy it was to feel comfortable around Zam or how beautiful she thought the clawdite’s current form was, Cye had spent the last two years trusting someone who’d ultimately cast her aside on a whim and there was no way she was over that. Not even close.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m only kidding, Cye,” she laughed, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze before separating herself and offering a little distance. “That was some quick thinking. I knew we’d make a good team.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Perhaps she didn’t have to say anything, and that in itself was oddly refreshing. Cye smirked at Zam, nodding towards the table ahead of them. “I got us in. What do we do now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How are you at Sabacc?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m no professional,” Cye admitted, “but I’ve won a few hands at Canto Bight and even more in backwater cantinas that didn’t end in blaster fights.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See, you have some good stories after all,” Zam chided. “I’ve never been to Canto Bight. You’ll have to tell me about it later. Right now, you have to seduce Oril and convince him to leave with you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait a minute.” Cye swiftly changed directions, grabbing Zam by the shoulder and pulling her aside and out of view from the target. “That’s not what we talked about. It’s a tail and tag. Besides you told the bouncer that </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> were his gift, </span>
  <em>
    <span>not me</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zam shrugged and smiled apologetically. “I know, but I thought we could have a bit more fun to cheer you up.” Cye frowned, her brow contorted with frustration building behind her eyes. She moved towards the door but Zam snatched her hand, gripping it tight. “Wait. I promise it’ll be fun and easy. I need to find his bodyguard while you keep him busy. Then once he takes you back to his place you can blow off some steam and I’ll finish him off.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not going to sleep with some </span>
  <em>
    <span>mir’sheb</span>
  </em>
  <span> I just met,” Cye hissed back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I never said you had to sleep with him,” Zam retorted with a frown of her own. “The guy’s a sleemo, I figured you’d enjoy putting him in his place. Besides, this body’s not his type,” she said with her hand showing off her slim form like a presenter. “He likes someone who can throw him around a little. Someone who’s been in a fight or two, seen some shit with the scars to prove it. Someone like you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like me,” Cye replied, her face void of emotion as she reeled in the desire to strike out at the person who’s supposed to be watching her back until Jango arrived. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I honestly couldn’t have planned this better even if I wanted to.” The clawdite let go of Cye’s hand, the edge of her lips creasing with the start of a hopeful smile. “It’s like you were meant to be here. Come on, what do you say? A night of gambling, harmless flirting, and a toast over Oril’s corpse while we split the credits.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine.” Cye took a deep breath, letting the tension go as she exhaled. She could take out her frustration on the mark if she wanted to later. “But no more surprises.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll do my best to give you a heads up.” Zam stood on her toes and kissed Cye’s cheek. It was so quick that she didn’t have time to react until it was over. Even then, her only response was her jaw dropping as she brought her arm halfway up to block Zam as an afterthought. “But no promises, honey. Here,” she said as she took out a credit fold from her clutch and placed it in Cye’s stunned hand. “This should get you a seat at the table. I’m sure you can handle the rest. Have fun.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zam twirled and sashayed away. Cye couldn’t help but watch her go. The woman was impressively skilled at keeping her attention and she wasn’t sure if she </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> like it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This is why Jango keeps her at arm’s length.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Zam was formidable and far more dangerous that Cye gave her credit for. She wouldn’t underestimate the clawdite’s ability to manipulate a situation for her own benefit a second time. Cye sighed as Zam disappeared into the crowd and headed towards the Sabacc table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was easy to pick out Oril Nenba in the table of gamblers. The young Kage male’s dusty lavender skin and swept back, straw spun gold hair made him stand out from the rabble. He was attractive, but skinny. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not quite enough to get behind, or in front of</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Cye thought. She took a seat across from him and his already unnaturally bright green eyes lit up as he looked over his cards. She handed the credit fold to the dealer who gave her a large stack of chips in return. Cye raised an eyebrow at him and flicked the edge of her lip upwards, acknowledging his reaction. The game was on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cye played it safe for the first few hands, getting a feel for the other players at the table. Of the four others there, a human male and female couple seemed to have money to burn and didn’t mind losing it. A rodian male was betting just enough to stay even with the house, like he was waiting for the right hand to bet big without needing to bluff. The zabrak female seemed more interested in Oril Nenba but was doing well against the others. Whatever attention Oril was giving to the zabraki before Cye arrived had disappeared. She almost felt sorry for the woman. Disappointment and even jealousy flashed in the woman’s eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cye didn’t care, didn’t even look at her as she tossed in a stack of chips to the center of the table, splitting it between the hand and sabacc pots, and tucked The Evil One card into the interference field. She watched the young man watch her as she withdrew her hand. He noticed the awkward bend in her little finger, and his bright eyes followed the line of her arm to her shoulder and finally to her face. She knew the faded lines of the scars on her face would be visible, and by the way he focused on her cheek he took notice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not polite to stare,” Cye said as the others took their turns. The human couple both matched, while the rodian folded. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve never seen you here before.” Oril’s voice was smooth and casual with the confidence that only youth provided. He flashed a smile almost as bright as his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s because I haven’t been here before,” she replied, bouncing his deflection back to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man chuckled as he raised the bet in the hand pot. “That would explain it then. Are you just passing through?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like a leaf on the wind.” Cye smirked as she called up some amusement to keep her attitude light. The look on the zabraki woman’s face as she tossed her cards down and walked away in a huff was funny enough. “What about you? You’re pretty far from home.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oril looked up at the woman as she stalked away and shrugged. “Home is where you make it. Right now, I’ve made it here.” He nodded his head to the now empty seat next to him. “Care to join me? I promise not to look at your cards.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And leave this seat open for some other pretty young thing to tear your attention away?” Cye replied as the shift rippled through the cards. She looked down at her new hand and kept her expression steady. “I don’t think so. I like the view from here just fine.” Cye pulled The Evil One card out of the interference field and shuffled it into her new hand then put another stack of chips into the hand pot. As she sat back she flexed her biceps just to see his reaction. The others left at the table folded in turn until it came back to the Oril. He eyed her, looking between her cards, her arms, and her face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How about we make another bet,” he said as he pushed in his chips to call. “If I win this hand, you sit next to me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll take those odds. But if I win you cash out here and buy me a drink,” Cye replied. She nodded over to the quieter end of the bar. “Top shelf.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Deal.” With a grin he laid out his cards. A mistress of Flasks, a three of Staves, and a five of Coins. Cye offered him a smile that said he got played by the best as she laid out The Idiot, Endurance, and The Evil One. He looked between his cards and hers with his mouth forming a perfect O.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Winner goes to the lady with minus twenty-three,” the dealer spoke up, breaking the silence. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I’d like to cash out now,” Cye said as she stood, eyeing the mark expectantly. “Looks like you owe me a drink.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once she no longer had to work for Oril’s undivided attention it was much like other bounty jobs she’d taken in the past. The main difference was the mark wanted to know about her rather than talk about himself. She deflected enough to keep the man curious without offering any true details on her past. It was easy to pull from other lies she’d made in the past, weaving together a tale that was both intriguing and believable when someone didn’t think too hard over it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even so, some things never change. A few drinks later and Oril wanted to whisk her away to somewhere more private where she could show him some more of her ‘battle scars,’ as he put it. She was surprised when he led her to the penthouse above the club though. Two human males followed them from a distance, stopping outside the door as they entered Oril Nenba’s private suite.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You seem a little young to own a club. Especially one this nice.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Where are you, Zam?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Cye inspected the room, sizing it up for both hiding spots and cover just in case. Nothing seemed off, but she kept her guard up. If things went sideways she had no weapons and potentially no backup.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I got lucky, made some good business deals,” Oril replied as he poured Cheedoan whiskey over ice into tumblers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So now you spend your time and your money at your own card tables?” Cye asked as she took the glass. The aroma of smoke and green fields was pleasant combined with the burning tickle as she sipped the whiskey. “That’s a strange retirement plan.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh I have no plans to retire anytime soon. I’m about to close on a deal that-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A loud thud outside the door interrupted him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Finally.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Cye wasn’t sure what to expect coming through the door but the female zabrak from the Sabacc table was not it. She raised a blaster and pointed it towards Cye. She dove behind the bar dragging Oril with her, and spilling her drink as blaster bolts splintered the expensive wood.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not going to steal my bounty,” the zabrak shouted as tibana, ozone, and smoke filled the air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What a waste</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Cye thought looking down at the whiskey staining her dress. She looked around for a weapon, but the only thing close was a crystal decanter with clear liquid. She grabbed it, stopping to open it’s contents and taking a swig of the spirit as the other woman kept firing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is she talking about? What are you doing?” the young man hissed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Got a light?” Cye asked back. Oril fumbled in his jacket and produced an everlight match. Cye snatched it and crawled to the other end of the bar. She took a long swig of the clear, burning alcohol and hit the match before standing and spraying the alcohol across the flame.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The zabrak spun to shoot her, stumbling back with a scream as the flames hit her clothes and singed her flesh. Cye wasted no time, advancing on her and grabbing her wrists. She twisted the blaster from the other woman’s grip, ripping the hem of her dress as she kneed the zabrak in the hip and brought her to the ground. Cye grappled the woman, grunting and twisting her arms away from the blaster and trapping her in a leg lock while pressing in on her throat with a chokehold. Oril managed to crawl around the bar and began scrambling towards the blaster. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>This is not going well</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Cye thought as one of the body guards stumbled into the room. They grabbed the blaster from the floor just before the young kage could snatch it up. Without a hint of thought the bodyguard aimed the blaster and shot Oril Nenba three times. He collapsed without a second to protest or defend himself. The zabrak stopped struggling for a split second and Cye released the woman and rolled away. Before she had a chance to look she heard two more blaster shots. When she turned back the bodyguard was grinning at Cye.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You certainly know how to throw a party,” he said in a deep voice as he bent down and placed the blaster into the hands of the dead woman. He then took out a small holdout blaster from his jacket and placed it in the hands of Oril Nenba. Then he dragged in the body of the other guard and shut the door to the suite.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Zam?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man turned around and as he did he started... melting. Reducing in size and stature, then changing into the form Cye recognized. The suit hung off of Zam’s slim frame and she waived her arms around in the oversized sleeves as she shirked out of the bodyguard’s clothes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry about that,” she said as she pulled out the slip of a dress she had been wearing from the pile of clothing and started dressing again. Cye rose to her feet checking over the damage to her own dress. “I thought you’d have more time. Looks like someone was out for the same job.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Or maybe two different people wanted him dead,” Cye said back as she walked over to the bar and picked up the half-spilled bottle of Cheedoan whiskey. “Do you think we have time to have a toast over his corpse before security forces show up?” she asked while she swung the bottle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zam smiled as she finished dressing. “Probably need to bring it along. I’d say we have three minutes, five if we’re lucky.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cye found the top and stoppered the bottle. “Well then, let’s see ourselves out.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They worked their way to the main floor, sticking to the walls, avoiding the main crowd of people and the Denon Security Force agents as they entered the club and barreled through the crowd to get to the penthouse. The two women exited the club, sticking to the shadows as they distanced themselves from the scene of their crime. Cye’s dress was ripped up to the hip, but at least she still had her shoes. Zam watched where she stepped so she didn’t get step on broken glass or worse with her bare feet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So,” she said after they were sure they weren’t being followed. “How was your night?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cye looked at her, a genuine smile warming her face. “You know, I’d say my night was pretty good. I was so busy that I completely forgot about my ex.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Perfect!” Zam exclaimed back, taking the whiskey bottle, pulling the stopper and tossing it to the ground. “A toast then. To a successful night in every way.” She raised the bottle to her lips, swallowing a large gulp before passing the bottle back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And to new friends, I hope,” Cye replied before taking a long drink. She could hold her alcohol better than most, but by the time they reached Zam’s place they’d finished off the bottle and her head was buzzing. They stumbled together, Zam’s arm around her waist while Cye’s arm settled comfortably across the smaller woman’s shoulder. They stopped at the door, Zam fumbling over the keypad.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know, I’ve never had a partner before,” she said as she focused on the door. “I liked that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We barely did anything together though,” Cye slurred. “Can’t call that a partner thing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We should change that then.” The door slid open and Zam pulled Cye into the apartment. Her delicate fingers laced between Cye’s as she wavered on her feet looking up at Cye. “You deserve better. I could give you better, you know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door slid shut, leaving them in darkness. Zam’s other hand found her cheek in the dark, the familiar touch sobering Cye as she took in the moment. She covered Zam’s hand with hers then bent down, wanting to lean in for a kiss but instead leaning close to the other woman’s ear. Something didn’t feel right.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You didn’t turn the lights off when we left,” Cye breathed.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. You and Me Against the Universe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cye and Zam find a surprise visitor in the clawdite's apartment before Cye leaves for Kamino.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cye stood frozen in the dark, holding her breath and listening for any sign of life in the apartment. Zam held fast to her hand, swaying but managing to keep her feet underneath her. They stayed that way for a long, tense minute. As they waited Cye’s eyes adjusted to the darkness and began to take in the shadowy details of the room. Someone had drawn the curtains to block the city lights in addition to the apartment. She slowly pulled away from Zam and hugged the wall, taking measured, silent steps to gain cover behind a shelving unit.</p><p>She berated herself once again for not having her blaster with her. The bag with her armor was two meters away on the couch. If she could get there without any more surprises, she could at least get to her vibro blade. On a silent count of three she broke cover, darting for the couch. The dagger was just underneath the remnant of her flak vest and she grabbed it before ducking behind the arm of the couch. </p><p>As she did so Zam reached the other side of the room and hit the switch, lighting up the apartment. Cye squeezed her eyes shut against the bright glare. She hoped that whoever was here got surprised too or else she was a sitting target. Cye slowly opened her eyes, squinting as they adjusted to the light. Zam was pressed against the wall on the other side of the room with a blaster in hand. Where she had it hidden Cye had no idea. No one was in the room with them, but she had a clear view of the hall and was positive that a shadow moved in the bedroom.</p><p>Cye stood, ready to activate the vibroblade. She caught Zam’s attention, holding up one finger then pointing down the hallway. The other woman’s face was red, her eyes no longer shining with mirth. Cye crept up to her and mouthed, “I’ll go first, distract them, and you can take the shot.” Zam frowned at the vibroblade but nodded anyway. </p><p>They moved silently down the short hallway as Cye tried to calm her racing heart. The buzz she’d had earlier transformed into a constant thrumming as it kept a beat with her pulse and tickled her nose. That’s what she assumed until she caught the familiar scent of spiced varos flower. She paused and held her hand up, stopping Zam behind her. She inhaled in quick, silent bursts trying to confirm what she smelled wasn’t her imagination.</p><p>“What is it?” Zam’s whisper barely carried to her ears. </p><p>“Jango?” Cye called out. Zam jumped behind her with a gasp. “Where are you?”</p><p>“Took you long enough,” his gravelly voice came from the bedroom. Cye felt the weight leave her head and she slumped back to lean against the wall. She’d had enough surprises for one night, but at least this one was a welcome one. Zam, on the other hand, seemed to wind up even more.</p><p>“Fierfek, Jango,” she said as she stormed into her bedroom. “You said you were going to message me over holo before you showed up.” Cye pushed herself straight and followed her in so the clawdite didn’t do anything she’d regret.</p><p>“I did. You didn’t answer.” Jango was in full kit, his helmet resting easily under his arm. He wore his signature frown as Zam huffed and stomped over to the holo comm. It was flashing with a message. Zam jabbed it with her finger and deleted the waiting message before spinning in place and crossed her arms over her chest.</p><p>“So you decided to break into my place?”</p><p>“Where else would I wait?” Jango looked from Zam to Cye and the frown deepened. “What happened to you? I thought I told you to look out for her, Zam.”</p><p>“I’m fine,” Cye spoke up before Zam could dig herself a deeper hole. “We went out to a club and a couple guys got too chatty. It was fun.”</p><p>Jango’s eyes narrowed at Zam, judging her state of intoxication and looking for any sign of deception. Cye sighed, moving between them and stood eye to eye with her brother. She put her hands on his shoulders, focusing his attention on her. A sheepish smile creased the edges of her eyes. “I’m glad you’re here.”</p><p>“Me’vaar ti gar?” He asked in a rushed whisper.</p><p>“Cuy ogir'olar, Ori’vod. Shi briikasak, mhi lararyc’ika.”</p><p>“Don’t talk about me like I’m not in the room,” Zam said as she tossed the blaster on the bed.</p><p>“Sorry,” Cye replied. It was easy to fall back into Mando’a with her brother around. “I was just telling him we went out to cheer me up.” She turned back to her brother. “That’s all.”</p><p>Jango pressed his lips together and snorted. “Mhi jorhaa du’car. Are you ready to go?”</p><p>“Go?” Zam wavered as she objected. She collapsed somewhat gracefully onto the bed before she fell down. “But you only just got here.”</p><p>Something in Jango’s tight lipped expression worried Cye. He was keeping something back. Something he didn’t want to discuss in front of Zam. “She’s right. And we just got back. I don’t have anything ready yet.”</p><p>“Well get it that way. We need to get back to Kamino.” She knew the finality in that tone. It brooked no argument. </p><p>Zam apparently knew it too based on the exasperated sigh. “Fine. Take what you need from the closet, Cye. And keep the boots. They suit you.” She rolled to face them and smiled. “I hope I see you again soon. Maybe next time we won’t have <em> someone </em> rudely interrupt us.”</p><hr/><p>“I still don’t understand why we needed to leave so fast,” Cye said as she matched pace with her brother’s long strides across the landing platform. He’d put his helmet on and had a firm grip on her arm. To the casual observer a Mandalorian bounty hunter had found who they were looking for and was marching them back to wherever for their reward. “Couldn’t we have left in the morning at least?” </p><p>“No. It’s not safe here.” His gruff voice came out distorted through the helmet. Jango’s ship came into view, waiting near the end of the row. He pressed a button on his vambrace and the boarding ramp to Slave I began to lower. Cye was about to ask why when he cut her off. “I’ll explain on board.”</p><p>The interior of Jango’s ship was the same as the last time she’d been a passenger. He kept everything clean, but it was still all function and no form. Everything served a purpose and was in its place or else it was gone. There was no doubt this was a Mando’s ship. As they reached the hold Cye noticed something new over the back of the guard station chair that stopped her in her tracks. Hanging there were two long braids. Seclusion braids. </p><p>“Stay here. I’ll be back once we’re in hyperspace.” Jango paused at the hatch to the cockpit and offered a tight frown. “I wanted to make sure I had proof to show you.”</p><p>Cye stayed locked in place as the hold’s artificial gravity kicked on, staring at the braids even as her stomach churned. The short time she’d spent with Zam was simply a distraction. She knew that. But she still didn’t expect how much the loss overpowered and eliminated any enjoyment she’d felt for that brief time. </p><p>She ran her fingers over Hondo’s braids, remembering the man they were once attached to. They were as much a part of who he was as the lungs that allowed him to breathe. The red cord she’d given him was still bound where she’d woven it in a few months ago. Her throat ran dry as she touched it, a mixture of sorrow, anger, and revulsion swirling in her chest. She closed her eyes, not wanting the images that came but unable to stop them. She’d been through enough to know that happy endings simply didn’t happen, but she thought she’d get more than a couple years of contentment. Even with the fights, their differences, she thought they had it pretty good all things considered. </p><p>Jango’s warning of the impending jump to hyperspace brought her back to the present. She took the braids off the back of the guard’s chair, setting them gently in her lap as she sat down just in time for the pit of her stomach to drop. The dizziness didn’t last very long without the direct visual of hyperspace to fuel her vertigo. The buzzing, lightheaded sensation never quite went away, but she was used to it and managed to keep it in check as she carefully pulled the red cord from the braid and tucked it into her boot. She wasn’t sure why she wanted to keep it, but she couldn’t bring herself to throw it into the disintegrator chute with the rest of the braids.</p><p>Jango climbed down from the pilot’s section to the hold just as she sealed the chute. He said nothing as she approached, simply took her shoulders and turned her to face him. He pressed his forehead to hers. Cye could barely see him through the forming tears. “Ni ceta, Ika’vod. I didn’t want this for you.” Her brother’s sympathy broke the fragile dam Zam’s distraction had built. Cye cried in shuddering uneven gasps as he crushed her against the chest plates of his armor. She didn’t care about the ache  and discomfort from the stitches in her side. She held onto him like a lifeline during Kamino’s monsoon season. “You deserve better, Cye’ika.”</p><p>“Why though?” she forced out between hitched sobs. </p><p>Jango didn’t answer, merely shook his head while she cried the overwhelming sense of injustice out of her system. She certainly didn’t feel like she deserved better. A part of her would always be there to try and convince her that it was her fault. That she didn’t deserve to find joy or happiness. That her life was meant for only vengeance, pain, and death. Those two opposing ideas of being could never coexist in her heart.</p><p>As her tears slowed she finally released the vice grip she held on Jango’s flak vest. He helped her sit and crossed the hold to the small food station. “You want caf? Or something a little stronger?”</p><p>“Caf is good,” she said meekly. “I think I need to clear my head.”</p><p>“Heh,” Jango forced a short laugh as the machine whirred and spat out hot caf into a ceramic mug. “Yeah, Zam will do that to you.” He returned with two mugs in one hand and a bottle of tihaar in the other. “What the hell were you thinking, letting her drag you out on a job?” His tone was amused, and the smile lines by his eyes creased.</p><p>“How’d you know?” Cye asked as she took a sip from the mug. It was decent for instant caf.</p><p>“Saw the bounty puck while I was waiting for you,” he replied as he pulled the top off the bottle and took a swig straight from it. “I checked it out and figured that’s where you were.”</p><p>Cye let out a short sigh of laughter then shook her head. “There was never a time we could fool each other, huh?” The caf was helping with the buzzing and clearing out the fuzz. She watched him stare at the bottle for a moment longer than he should have. The look reminded her of the intensity he had before they left Denon. “Why aren’t we safe? What happened, Jan’ika?” He took one more short swig from the bottle and stared at her with a hesitant frown. “I need to know.”</p><p>“What IDs have you been using lately?” he said after another pause. </p><p>“Mesh’la Naast when I’m taking solo jobs,” she replied, confused at the turn in questioning. “But I haven’t needed to use the others. Jango, what’s going on?”</p><p>“Hondo had business with Deathwatch. They know who you are and want to use you to get to me.” It was so quiet Cye thought she could hear the swirling chaos of hyperspace pounding in her ears again. She wrapped both hands around the caf mug and stared at its contents trying to sort through the mass of implications those few words brought up. “Vizsla had a son we didn’t know about. From what I got out of Hondo, he’s rebuilt Deathwatch. He knows we killed his father and found you through the pirates.”</p><p><em> How could you, H? </em> The thought that he would have had anything to do with anyone calling themselves Deathwatch turned her sorrow into icy rage. Even worse, that he might have given them her real name was a far worse betrayal than simply abandoning her for a better offer. Had Deathwatch made the better offer? Had they set up the trap on Corellia?</p><p>“Cye’ika.” Jango’s tempered voice cut through the spiral of what ifs. “I’ve taken care of cutting ties. You won’t have to worry about Deathwatch finding you because of Hondo. But you need to think about your next move. Carefully.”</p><p>All she could offer in return was a nod. She would sooner die by her own hand than be caught by Deathwatch. The life she had started to build had disappeared in the blink of an eye, the same way it had time and time again. It seemed like everything good she’d ever accomplished kept being ripped away or warped by her own need to win. <em> What do I do now? </em> She thought as she swirled the liquid in her cup. <em> Where do I go? Who can I trust? </em> </p><p>“You don’t have to decide right away,” Jango said, deciphering her thoughts through her face. “We’ll figure things out when you- when we- can both think with clear heads.”</p><p>“Alright.” Cye couldn’t force herself to speak above a whisper. “Sounds like… something.” She brought the mug up and finished off the caf in several gulps. Once she was finished she set it aside, eyeing the bottle of tihaar, but decided against taking it from her brother. </p><p>“You’ve had a rough couple of days,” he said as she stood and picked up the mugs. “You should rest. It’ll be mid-morning when we get to Kamino. I’ll show you around, let you see the progress those gene tampering fishheads have made. Spend time with Boba.” He pointed towards the last prisoner hold. “I set the third cell up for you. Blackout and sound dampening cloth. Should keep the vertigo at bay while we’re in hyperspace.”</p><p>Cye rose and walked mechanically towards the hold. She pulled back the curtain and paused, turning to see Jango still standing by the table watching her. “Thank you, Ori’vod. I’m glad I have you looking out for me.”</p><p>He offered a tight smile in return. “It’s you and me against the universe, Ika’vod. We’ll win out in the end.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Cye agreed, bobbing her head. “You and me.” At least she had one good thing left in the galaxy to hold onto. “Goodnight.”</p><hr/><p>
  <strong> <span class="u">Mando'a Translations:</span> </strong>
</p><p><em>Me’vaar ti gar?</em> - How are you? (Lit: what's new with you?) Can also be used to ask a soldier for a sitrep. If a Mando asks you this, they expect an answer; it's literal.</p><p><em>Cuy ogir'olar</em> - It's neither here nor there. *It's irrelevant.*</p><p><em>Shi briikasak, mhi lararyc’ika</em> - Just a run-ashore and we’re a little drunk. (run-ashore is a social event or night out while deployed)</p><p><em>Mhi jorhaa du’car</em> - We’re talk about this later</p><p><em>Ni ceta</em> - I’m sorry (lit: I kneel) grovelling apology - rare</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Homecoming</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jango and Cye arrive back on Kamino and reconnects with an old friend and mentor.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>29 BBY - Kamino</p>
<hr/>
<p>“I don’t like this Jango.” The kaminoans inspected the small boys with cool dispassion. “They treat them like they’re cattle, not people.”</p>
<p>“I don’t like it either,” he agreed, “but we can’t save them all.”</p>
<p>Cye crossed her arms under her chest, swallowing the discomfort rising in her throat as she continued to observe. It was obvious that these weren’t normal children. The clone boys were hyper-focused on the task presented. It was some kind of test, but she didn’t know exactly what the geneticists were measuring. The boys had a hard edge to their expression, as if they’d already seen far more in their short lives than a battle hardened soldier. It felt wrong. </p>
<p>“I know that look, Cye’ika,” Jango said, tearing her out of her thoughtful haze. He wore his signature frown but his eyes were soft, sympathetic. She caught the minute headshake and the slight nose flare. “Now isn’t the time to play hero.” He cast his gaze back to the young versions of himself. “That time’s long gone for us.”</p>
<p>“I know.” Cye couldn’t look at them anymore. She shut her eyes and turned away, hands still wrapped protectively around her injured ribs. </p>
<p>“I do what I can.” He sounded resigned, perhaps even remorseful. “But the clones are bred to be soldiers. Not everyone makes the cut even in normal circumstances, you know that.”</p>
<p>“Are you trying to convince me or you?” Cye asked. </p>
<p>“Do you want vengeance?” He asked back. There was no malice, not even frustration. It was an exchange of simple questions that didn’t require a response. She breathed deep, puffing out her cheeks as she exhaled. He took her hand, offering a slight measure of comfort with a gentle squeeze. “Come on. There’s someone else who wants to see you.”</p>
<p>He put his arm around her shoulders, ever the protective Ori’vod and guided Cye away from the testing facility. They walked in silence for a while, giving her time to work through her thoughts about the situation. She understood why he said yes. If the opportunity to destroy the Jedi once and for all had been offered to her, she’d have done the same. It was the lack of control over what the cloners did with the boys that bothered her. She knew Jango felt the same. Cye trusted him when he said he’d done what he could to protect the young clones. This was the first time she’d chosen to see them for herself since she left disgusted at the thousands of babies growing in vats. It was also the first time she had nowhere else to go.</p>
<p>“Any thoughts yet on how long you might stay? We could use your expertise around here.” </p>
<p>“I’m not sure.” If he didn’t know her so well I’d assume he read her mind. Cye shrugged noncommittally, but the ache on her right side flared as the stitches stretched along her ribs. Her nose wrinkled and her cheek tightened as she winced. </p>
<p>“You know the doctors here can get that patched up better,” he said with a smirk. “Might not even leave a scar.”</p>
<p>“You know how much I like collecting them,” she replied with a stiff grin. “Besides, Zam did a good enough job.” Cye ran her fingers over the gash she’d received during her desperate getaway from Corellia. The thought of her escape brought forth a wave of phantom nausea for having to pilot through hyperspace alone. She swallowed heavily to keep the rising bile in her stomach where it belonged. “I think maybe I’ll be here for a little while.” Jango turned towards her and raised an eyebrow. </p>
<p>“I’m glad to hear it.” A broad smile transformed his gruff exterior. “And I know Boba will love having his <em> ba’vodu </em> around. He’s missed you. We’ve both missed you.”</p>
<p>“I missed you too,” Cye said back and hooked her arm around his elbow. The weight of being alone lifted and she felt at ease for the first time in days. Here, even being uncomfortable with the cloning process, she found some measure of peace. They left the main thoroughfare and into a narrower residential passage.</p>
<p>A child’s muffled squeal carried down the hallway. Cye raised an eyebrow but Jango just snorted. One squeal turned into shouts and bursts of giggles that grew louder as they approached last door on the left.</p>
<p>“Are those-”</p>
<p>Jango nodded. “Some of the ones we managed to save.” His fist wavered by the door. “Just be careful around them, Ika’vod, they aren’t like normal kids. Hell, these ones aren’t even normal clones.” </p>
<p>“They sound normal,” she said quietly.</p>
<p>The look he gave her made Cye feel like they were about to walk into a minefield. “You’ll see,” he replied and then knocked on the door.</p>
<p>The sounds of rambunctious children ended in an instant. The silence was tense. Cye strained her ears and could make out some shuffling behind the door. A sense of foreboding crept into her chest and she took a step back. </p>
<p>“<em>Udesii ade! </em>” A man’s voice shouted from behind the door. “Back it up, boys. Go sit.” The closer the speaker got to the door the more their voice sounded familiar. “To the couch, son. I’ve got this.” Several pairs of feet moved away from the door, replaced by heavy boots. After a moment the door slid open.</p>
<p>“Jango,” the man greeted her brother. She had to step to the side in order to get a look at him. He tensed as she gasped, ready to slide the knife she knew was hidden up his sleeve into his hand. Instead he rocked back a fraction, his eyes widened in surprise. “Cye?”</p>
<p>“<em>Kal’ba? </em>” Cye was stunned. Jango pushed her towards the door and she stumbled forward until the older man had to look up to maintain eye contact. </p>
<p>Kal Skirata struck faster than a viper as he lifted her off her feet and spun Cye around like when she was a child. She found herself wrapping her arms around his neck in response, ignoring the fire along her side and his face pressed against her chest. He set Cye down inside his doorway and pressed his hands against her cheeks with a wide grin plastered on his face.</p>
<p>“<em>Cye’ika</em>!” He embraced her again, and she looked over his shoulder to Jango. He managed to keep the laughter to just his eyes and a knowing smirk. “Look at you! All grown up.”</p>
<p>“You got shorter,” Cye joked. “Look at you. All those lines,” she said as she traced a wrinkle on his forehead. “And all that gray.”</p>
<p>“<em>Ne’johaa, ad’ika</em>,” he said as he batted her hand away. “I can’t believe it. <em> K’olar, k’olarade." </em> He took her hand. “Please come in Jango, you’re welcome too.”</p>
<p>“I’ll have to pass,” he said with a chuckle. “I don’t want to get in the way of your reunion. Besides,” he said as he raised his chin looking over her shoulder, “they get a little antsy when I’m around.”</p>
<p>Cye looked behind her into Kal’s quarters. Six identical boys clustered together on a couch. Their bodies were young but their eyes were keen as they watched with unreadable expressions. They seemed to be taking in every minute detail of their interaction, assessing the situation for danger.</p>
<p>Kal nodded, “Then I’ll make sure she finds her way back to you when we’re done catching up.” </p>
<p>“<em>Gar jate, Cye</em>?” Jango asked, pulling her attention away from the boys. A simple question that carried more weight than anyone else could imagine. A big brother looking out for his little sister.</p>
<p>“<em>Ni jate’lek Ori’vod,</em>” she replied with a smile. “I’ll see you later.”</p>
<p>Jango nodded and looked back to Kal with a smile. “Don’t overdo it, Kal. She just got here. I don’t need you chasing her off anytime soon.”</p>
<p>Kal laughed and waved Jango away. Her brother shook his head and locked eyes with her. Cye nodded to him to let him know again that she’d be fine. He seemed satisfied and walked back the way they came. Kal hit the door panel and it slid shut. He let go of her hand, pulled out a jammer, and plugged it into the panel.</p>
<p>“Can’t be too safe,” he said. He smiled, his eyes glittered as he found her hand again and walked her into the main room. “At ease boys. I have someone I’d like you to meet.”</p>
<p>Cye hadn’t realized how tense their posture was until they shifted on the couch. Two of them leaned back and tucked their legs under them. One leaned forward, swinging his legs, his feet not reaching the floor. One slid off the couch and sat on the floor while another stood up. The last stretched out to fill the abandoned space. The standing boy walked over to them.</p>
<p>“Hello.” The voice was a child’s but the tone belied someone mature. </p>
<p>“This is Ordo. My son.” Kal beamed. It reminded Cye of her <em> buir </em> and she felt the old ache in the top of her chest. He was the picture of a proud father. The boy’s expression challenged her to disagree.</p>
<p>Instead she knelt before him to get to his eye level. “You are very lucky to have a father like Kal. I’m Cye.”</p>
<p>The boy held out his hand and she took it. “It’s nice to meet you, Cye,” he said politely. The boy smiled and his terse expression reverted to that of a curious child. He looked behind him at his brothers and they all grinned at Cye in the genuine way that only children can, all hope and innocence.</p>
<p>Kal began to introduce the rest of his sons. He gestured to each boy. “This is Kom’rk and Prudii,” he gestured to the boys that sat with their legs under them. “This is Jaing, A’den, and,” he paused briefly on the last boy stretched out on the couch. “This is Mereel.” </p>
<p>Cye looked up at Kal. Her brows tightened and her mouth turned down in a jumble of emotions. Ordo’s grip immediately tightened around her fingers. She looked back to the boys, who were all staring at her with confusion.</p>
<p>“What’s wrong with my name, <em> Kal’buir </em>?” Mereel asked.</p>
<p>“Nothing, son,” he said with calm reassurance. “This is Cye Mereel. You’re named after her father.” There was a sharp intake of breath from the boys followed by a collective <em> ooh </em> . “I think this calls for <em> uj’alayi </em>, what do you say, boys?” The six boys nodded excitedly in unison and Kal smiled. “Good. Have a seat Cye. I’ll be right back.”</p>
<p>Mereel sat up and shifted to make room for Cye on the couch. She sat down and the boys settled in around her. They stared at her, curious but quiet. They seemed to be appraising her. Cye caught their glances at the scars on her exposed midriff and legs. She regretted having no clothes of her own here. She’d have to fix that and stop wearing the clothes Zam let her take with her. It was strange being stared at as hard as they were without the leering that often came along with men who looked too long. Even so, Cye wished that she was covered a little more.</p>
<p>“Are you a Mandalorian?” the one on the floor, A’den, asked. </p>
<p>“Of course I am,” she replied.</p>
<p>“I’ve never seen a female Mandalorian before,” the boy said excitedly. “What’s the difference?”</p>
<p>“She’s a female,” Prudii said, “Duh.”</p>
<p>“Do all female Mandalorians dress like that?” Kom’rk asked, his chubby cheeks turning pink. “It’s not very protective.”</p>
<p>“Maybe that’s why we’ve never seen one before,” A’den offered.</p>
<p>“I think you have more scars than<em> Kal’buir </em>,” Ordo said as he put his hand over the scar on Cye’s thigh. She acted without thinking, swiftly knocking his hand away. He reacted just as quick, taking her hand by the thumb and twisting her wrist around. Instinct overcame her shock at the speed and intensity of his response and Cye countered with her left arm to keep him from dislocating her elbow. While he was distracted she swept his feet out from under him and pinned him with her knees. His small fist hit her side and she hissed as pain flared around her stitches.</p>
<p>“Check!” Kal's stern voice made them both freeze.</p>
<p>Ordo immediately stopped struggling and Cye released him. He stood up, small chest heaving, his face flushed with embarrassment and anger. <em> Kal’ba </em> stood in the doorway from the kitchen with an <em> uj </em> cake in one hand, his knife in the other.</p>
<p>“<em>Me’vaar ti gar? </em>” he said as he walked in. The boys seemed to defer to him completely.</p>
<p>“Ordo just touched the scar on her leg,” Jaing spoke up. “And then she attacked him.”</p>
<p>“Did you ask permission to touch her, <em> Ord’ika </em>?”</p>
<p>“No, sir.” The boy shook his head, eyes cast down.</p>
<p>“It’s my fault, <em> Kal’ba</em>,” Cye said as she checked her side. Thankfully the stitching didn’t pop. “I responded too hastily and-”</p>
<p>“Hush, <em> Cye’ika</em>,” Kal chided her as he sat in his chair and put the <em> uj </em>cake on the table. “This is an important lesson for my boys.” He waved his hand at Ordo and the boy immediately went to his side. Kal picked him up and put him on his lap. “You should never touch a female without permission outside of a combat situation.”</p>
<p>“But she-” Jaing started.</p>
<p>“Reacted appropriately,” Kal interrupted. “She became combative because you posed a threat to her autonomy, son. Cye doesn’t know you yet, and has no reason to trust your intentions.”</p>
<p>“Like how we are with all the fish heads?” Mereel asked.</p>
<p>“Yes.” Cye held in a laugh as Kal held onto his serious expression. “But you’re fortunate. Any other male who tried that stunt would be out a hand. Cye is the best melee brawler and grappler I know. You’ll learn a lot from her in time. Now apologize so we can celebrate.”</p>
<p>Ordo hopped off Kal’s lap and bounded over to stand in front of Cye. Kal got up and went back to the kitchen. The boy glanced towards Kal’s back then looked her in the eyes. The defiance was absent, and he looked genuinely upset with himself. The boy desperately wanted Kal’s approval.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, Cye,” he said, his voice wavering. “I didn’t know. I didn’t think. It won’t happen again.”</p>
<p>“I forgive you, <em> Ord’ika</em>. I’ll also be more understanding in the future.” The poor kid looked like he was about to burst into tears. The shock of his fighting skills was long gone and he was just a little boy. “Would you like a hug?”</p>
<p>Ordo nodded and Cye leaned in. He laid his head on her shoulder and she held him the same Jango did for her when she was his age. She felt another set of little arms around them, then another, and the rest of them followed as she was swarmed with hugs.</p>
<p>“Ow! Careful, <em> adike</em>,” Cye said with a laughing hiss. “I don’t want the cut to open up.”</p>
<p>“Alright, alright, settle down boys, let the woman breathe.” Kal had a mug in each hand and stretched one out to her as the boys picked up slices of<em> uj </em>. “I hope I still remember how you like your caf.”</p>
<p>Cye took a sip and smiled. It was syrupy sweet with spice and cream. “Perfect,<em> Kal’ba </em> . Where did you manage to get your hands on <em> uj’ayl </em> out here?”</p>
<p>“I have my ways,” he said with a wink.</p>
<p>“Fine. Keep your secrets, old man,” she said as she grinned. “Just as long as I can come bother you for a spiced caf whenever the mood takes me.”</p>
<p>“I’ll make sure to have enough for you every morning then.” Kal picked up the plate of cake and held it out for her. “Get a piece before they eat it all.”</p>
<p>The <em>uj’alayi</em> cake was dense, but it practically melted in her mouth. It brought back good memories and a sense of serenity that Cye hadn’t realized she was missing. The boys were distracted by sweets, but she noticed the way they looked at each other and their subtle movements as they communicated with their body language.</p>
<p>“It really is good to see you, <em> Cye’ika</em>.” Kal’s smile made her feel like she was twenty years younger.</p>
<p>“I thought you retired.”</p>
<p>“So did I,” he replied. His eyes darted to the boys and his jaw clenched. Whatever happened to make him come here he didn’t want to discuss in front of the boys. “What kind of trouble have you been getting up to?” He gestured to her side.</p>
<p>“Had some issues with a job on Corellia,” Cye replied casually as her eyes darted to the young clones. </p>
<p>He nodded and sipped his caf. She leaned over the boys and snatched one of the last pieces of uj cake. Mereel looked over his shoulder with a frown. She smirked at him and he wrinkled his little nose. Cye broke the piece in half and held one out to him. The boy grinned and swiped it from her fingers.</p>
<p>“So this is what Jango looked like when he was a boy,” she mused as she looked back to Kal who was smiling at his sons. “He’s always looked so grown up to me. He was a cute kid.”</p>
<p>“You knew Jango when he was younger?” Ordo asked through a mouthful of cake.</p>
<p>“Not quite as young as you,” she said. “He’s my older brother. My father adopted him when I was close to your---when I was young. I’ll let you know when you look like how I remember him.”</p>
<p>“Does that mean you’ll be sticking around for a while?” Kal asked.</p>
<p>“At least until I can arrange a couple new IDs,” Cye replied. The <em> uj </em> was gone, and the boys were listening quietly. “Wow, you really did devour that cake.”</p>
<p>“Why don’t you go play,” Kal suggested. </p>
<p>“But we want to stay and listen <em> Kal’buir </em>,” Jaing whined. </p>
<p>“It’s alright <em> Kal’ba</em>,” Cye said. “They can stay if they want.”</p>
<p>“Maybe next time, boys,” he said. “Go play in your room.” He said it with a gentle finality that allowed for no argument. They stood up immediately in unison as if they were carrying out an order from an officer, but then scampered off like the children they were.</p>
<p>“<em>Ba’vodu</em>, you didn’t have to send them away.”</p>
<p>“Don’t worry, <em> Cye’ika </em>. I’m sure they’ll manage to listen in anyway.” Kal sighed and sank into the armchair. “Those boys are too damn smart for their own good.” </p>
<p>“<em>Val’suvar Mando’a? </em>” Cye asked.</p>
<p>“<em>Just a few phrases</em>,” he said back in <em> Mando’a</em>.</p>
<p>“<em>Then we can speak plainly for now,</em>” she said. “<em>Why did you want them to leave </em>?”</p>
<p>“I<em> want you to stay</em>.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “<em>I can’t stand being here without someone I can trust</em>.”</p>
<p>“<em>You trust Jango</em>.” </p>
<p>“<em>Your brother allowed this</em>,” he replied. He nodded towards the boys’ room. They seemed to be involved in some game that only kids could think up. "<em>H</em><em>e’s the one getting paid so those monsters can play god with these boys</em>.”</p>
<p>“<em>Careful, ba’vodu</em>.”</p>
<p>Kal sighed in exasperation. “<em>I’m not going to pretend I know the whole story, but regardless of why he agreed, they are innocent children</em>.”</p>
<p>“<em>You’re right</em>,” Cye admitted. “<em>I saw how the Kaminoans treat the clones. It’s disturbing</em>.”</p>
<p>“<em>I can’t leave. These boys need me. Those fishy bastards were going to kill them just because they didn’t meet expectations. They were going to </em> murder children.” Kal paled as his anger rose. “<em>I won’t let that happen if I can help it</em>.”</p>
<p>Cye was stunned into silence for several seconds. His ferocity mirrored the horror she felt. She understood why he chose to stay completely in that moment. “<em>Well,</em>” she said at last, <em> “you’re off to a good start</em>.”</p>
<p>“<em>I</em><em> have a hundred and four other boys that I have to take care of and train to survive in a war they’re not even old enough to fight yet</em>,” he growled. “<em>I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take out my frustration on you</em>.”</p>
<p>“<em>I</em><em>t’s alright Kal’ba. I felt the same way looking at the testing facility</em>.” </p>
<p>“<em>You have to stay</em>.” </p>
<p>The conviction in Kal’s voice made her pause. “<em>Why </em>?”</p>
<p>“<em>There’s no one else here that I’d trust more than you. Between you and your brother, you were always the voice of compassion</em>.”</p>
<p>“<em>Not as often as you think</em>.”</p>
<p>“<em>These boys are </em> slaves<em>, Cye’ika</em>.” Kal leaned forward and lowered his voice to a whisper. “<em>No one else knows how that will shape their lives better than you."</em></p>
<p>His words hit her like a sucker punch. Cye blinked so fast she thought the lights were strobing. She barely registered as Kal moved from his armchair to the couch. She felt his arms around her and his hand pressing her head to his shoulder. </p>
<p>“<em>I’m so sorry, Cye’ika</em>,” Kal whispered softly. “<em>I’m sorry,</em> <em>I know it’s not the same. They’ll never have to go through what you did. But you </em>can help them.<em> You can help them learn how to survive this horror show they’ve been born into</em>.” Cye let out a long, shaking breath and pulled away to meet Kal’s eyes. They were glistening with unshed tears. “<em>Please, Cye’ika. I can’t do this alone anymore</em>.”</p>
<p>A lack of movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention. Ordo hid as Cye glanced towards the boys’ room. The others were doing a good job of playing distraction, but he’d stayed listening too long. Kal noticed as well, but simply shook his head.</p>
<p>“<em>I’m not sure how much help I’d be Kal’ba</em>,” she admitted. “<em>But I’ll think on it. I promise</em>.”</p>
<p>“<em>Thank you</em>,” he said with a sigh. “<em>Are you alright </em>?”</p>
<p>“<em>I’m not in a good headspace right now. I was betrayed on Corellia by someone I cared for.”  </em>She couldn’t stop the tears from welling in her eyes. <em> “I had to steal a ship and fly through hyperspace alone and I hurt myself pretty bad because of it </em> .” The memories of shattered expectations hurt more than the gash in her side. “<em>But it’s good to have family here to fall back </em> on.”</p>
<p>“<em>I’ll always be here for you, Cye’ika</em>,” he said, patting her cheek with his calloused hand. “<em>Ratiin</em>.”</p>
<p>“<em>Thanks</em>.” Cye leaned back and put her feet up on the table. “<em>Ugh, I’ve been crying too much lately. I thought I’d be able to take a break from it here</em>.” She smiled flatly and shook her head.</p>
<p>“<em>You and me both</em>,” Kal said. “<em>These boys have already been through hell, and it’s only going to get worse. It’s damn depressing</em>.”</p>
<p>“<em>You’re really not selling it well, Kal’ba</em>,” she said with a laugh. “<em>I thought you wanted me to stay </em>?”</p>
<p>He chuckled while frowning. “<em>Well I’m not going to sugar coat it. The caf is the sweetest thing you’ll find in this shithole</em>.”</p>
<p>The giggling boys were jumping across their beds. They spun and flipped in the air like veteran acrobats. At first Cye thought they’d given up trying to listen in, but hand signals and semi-covert glances indicated they were simply hiding it better. Jango could adapt, but those boys were uncanny. Whatever the Kaminoans messed around with had changed them into something more than human. The implications scared her more than their treatment of the clones.</p>
<p>“They remember every single thing,” Kal said, switching back to Basic. “Ordo could repeat back every word of our conversation, even if he doesn’t understand what he’s saying.”</p>
<p>“I imagine they’ll figure it out eventually.”</p>
<p>“Eventually?” Kal laughed heartily as if Cye had just told him a belter of a joke. “My guess is they’ll crack it by noon tomorrow.”</p>
<p>“<em>Fierfek</em>.” She stared at the little boys that weren’t really children. Her heart pounded so hard she thought it’d leave a bruise. If this was what vengeance looked like, Cye should have talked Jango out of it. “How the hell are we supposed to keep up with them? We’re going to run out of things to teach them before they hit puberty.”</p>
<p>“We adapt, <em> Cye’ika </em>. We learn to think fast and have answers for every question they throw our way. We do everything we can to make sure they survive.” He drained his caf and smiled as he watched them. “And we love them.”</p>
<p>“You’re getting soft.” He gave Cye a sideways glance before putting his arm around her shoulders. She rested her head against his and they watched the boys play. “I don’t know why you decided to come here, but I’m glad you are.”</p>
<p>“That’s a discussion we should have outside of prying ears,” he whispered in a low, breathy voice, lips barely moving.</p>
<p>“Of course.”</p>
<p>“I’m going to need to take the boys to get some wet rats here soon,” Kal said with a sigh.</p>
<p>“Wet rats?” </p>
<p>“Same as dry rats, just wet,” he replied.</p>
<p>“That sounds horrible,” she said, fake gagging. “You don’t cook for them here?”</p>
<p>“I was never much of a cook,” he said with a rumbling chuckle. “I guess you don’t remember.”</p>
<p>“Maybe I blocked it from my memory.” She looked up and grinned. “We’ll have to get those boys proper Mandalorian food. A real <em> skraan’ikase </em>.”</p>
<p>“And just how do you plan on making that happen?” Kal asked as the boys stopped their games and ran out with their boots to put on, ready to go get food.</p>
<p>“You just leave that to me, <em> Kal’ba</em>.” Cye stood up and held out her arm to help him up. “You might not be able to leave, but I have one clean ID I can use to go on a supply run. That or I’ll just throw on Jango’s armor and sneak out.”</p>
<p>“Now <em> that </em> I’d like to see.” He looked at his clone sons, as proud as any other Mando father. “You ready to go, boys?”</p>
<p>“Yes, sir.” They replied in unison, the only trace of youth being their higher vocal range.</p>
<p>“First we’ll find Jango,” Kal said. “Then we eat. Then we train.”</p>
<p>The boys clustered on either side of the door. They were arranged in a defensive pattern, as though they were expecting trouble on the other side. If her life was going to be thrown aside she’d feel the same way. A fresh wave of anger crested as Kal released the jammer and opened the door. Kal and Cye walked out and they followed. The boys moved like a team experienced in urban fighting. </p>
<p><em> They probably are </em>. </p>
<p>“<em>Kal’ba</em>.”</p>
<p>“Yes <em> Cye’ika </em>?”</p>
<p>“I think Jango set me up.”</p>
<p>“How so?” Kal raised an eyebrow.</p>
<p>“I think he knew exactly what would happen when he brought me to see you.” She smirked and rested her arm over his shoulders. “I think I’ll stay.”</p>
<p>Kal’s eyes lit up. And teared up a little too. “Really?”</p>
<p>“Yes. Who knows, maybe I’ll even join the <em> Cuy’val Dar </em>. Cye Mereel can be dead to the galaxy. For now.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span class="u"> <strong>Mando’a Translations:</strong> </span>
</p>
<p><em> Ba’vodu </em> - Aunt/Uncle</p>
<p><em> Udesii ade </em> - Calm down, children</p>
<p><em> Kal’ba </em> - Uncle Kal</p>
<p><em> Ne’johaa, ad’ika </em> - Shut up, little one</p>
<p><em> K’olar, k’olarade </em> - Come here, come here both of you</p>
<p><em> Gar jate? </em> - You good?</p>
<p><em> Ni jate’lek </em>- Yes, I’m good</p>
<p><em> Kal’buir - </em> Papa Kal</p>
<p><em> Uj’alayi </em> - uj cake - dense, very sweet flat cake made of ground nuts, syrup, pureed dried fruit and spice</p>
<p><em> Me’vaar ti gar? </em> - How are you? (Lit: what's new with you?) Can also be used to ask a soldier for a sitrep. If a Mando asks you this, they expect an answer; it's literal..</p>
<p><em> Adike </em> - kids</p>
<p><em> Val’suvar Mando’a? </em> - Do they understand Mando’a?</p>
<p><em> Skraan’ikase </em> - assorted small snacks like meze or tapas - *small eats* - a celebratory meal for Mandos because it can take hours to eat, and the dishes are often fiddly, a contrast to the easy-to-eat, quick meals necessary in the field</p>
<p><em> Cuy’val Dar </em> - “Those who no longer exist” (The Cuy'val Dar were the group of individuals summoned by Mandalorian bounty hunter Jango Fett to train clone troopers for the Galactic Republic.)</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. First Impressions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>We see Cye and Jango through the eyes of the young clones.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi friends! I'm starting to play around with expanding the POV with future characters. I hope you like it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>29 BBY - Kamino</p><hr/><p>RC-17-074 walked through the mess hall with the other clones in 2nd lunch. He was sporting a black eye from training in hand to hand combat with the new Klatooinian instructor. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to learn, other than how to take a beating. The other cadets in his group fared no better.</p><p>“What happened to you?” RC-19-022 asked as he sat down with his tray.</p><p>“New instructor,” RC-17-074 replied. “He’s really hands on.”</p><p>“No, he’s a bully.” Another clone sat beside him. It was another of his brothers in the training squad. He winced and covered his ribs. “None of the other trainers treat us like that. It’s not right.” RC-17-074 remembered this one. He kept using the name he calls himself instead of his number.</p><p>“Tip, right?” he asked. The clone nodded. “They hired him to help us become soldiers.”</p><p>“But he didn’t even train us. He just called us up and started railing on us. How are we supposed to learn anything if we’re all banged up?”</p><p>“You have a point there, Tip.” RC-17-074 said. He didn’t want to question his trainer, especially since he only just started PT. But if it was like that all the time he might not be able to fight at all. “We’ll figure something out.”</p><p>“You mean he did that to all of you?” RC-19-094 asked.</p><p>Tip nodded. “Look, there’s the rest of our brothers.” He pointed to the clones coming out of the line with their trays. </p><p>Another cadet, RC-19-102, shook his head. “I hope my group won’t have to train with him.”</p><p>“I think they are doing rotations,” RC-17-074 said. “So you probably will eventually.”</p><p>The mood was sullen as the news spread through the mess hall. They discussed options to try and defend themselves from the Klatooinian or defeating him with numbers instead of letting him beat them one at a time. They decided that preemptively attacking could get them decommed, but they could and should defend their brothers.</p><p>“Look,” RC-19-022 spoke in a whisper. “That’s Jango Fett!” Other cadets were making the same observation in hushed murmurs.</p><p>“I wonder who that is with him.” Tip said quietly.</p><p>Their progenitor walked into the mess talking with a black haired human woman. The first thing RC-17-074 noticed was that she wasn’t wearing bland training fatigues. She wasn’t wearing much at all. A tight long sleeved red shirt that only just covered her ribs and a matching skirt that was just as short with black mid-calf soft leather boots. She looked to be younger than him, maybe early thirties. She was just about as tall as Fett, almost as broad, and walked with the same sense of purpose. RC-17-074 couldn’t help but stare. She looked powerful and dangerous. </p><p> “I dunno,” RC-19-094 said. “But she’s jacked.”</p><p>Fett said something and the woman laughed. She said something back in Mando’a that made the man chuckle. He seemed to be showing her around the facility. “Maybe she’s another trainer,” RC-17-074 said. “I wonder what her expertise is.”</p><p>“Other than being smoking hot?” Tip asked with a smirk. </p><p>“Calm down, <em> vod </em>,” RC-19-102 said, “She’s too old for you.”</p><p>“Won’t be forever. Give me a few years. I’ll be man enough.” They started bickering over whether they’d get the chance to meet someone like her when they were old enough, or at least looked old enough. RC-17-074 watched Fett and the woman as a droid approached them. He couldn’t hear what was said, but Fett nodded and said something to the woman before following the droid out of the mess hall. </p><p>She looked around at the cadets as she headed to the chow line. She was smiling when her eyes locked on RC-17-074 and he quickly looked away. When he glanced up she was still looking at him, but the smile was gone, her frowning eyes bore into him. Then she started walking his way.</p><p>“Shut up,” he hissed at his brothers. “Shut up she’s coming over here!”</p><p>They all sat up straight and looked at their trays as she approached their table. She was a lot more intimidating up close. She circled to RC-17-074’s side and he dared to look up. She wasn’t looking at him but at the other faces around them. She was looking for something. Then she kneeled down to be level with them.</p><p>The woman had an old, faint, web like scar that spread on the right side of her face from her temple to under her cheek bone. As he looked down again he was close enough to see many scars over her exposed skin. She was almost as muscular as a man, not at all delicate like the Kaminoans. </p><p>“What happened here?” Her voice was both hard and deeply feminine. The female Kaminoan scientists spoke with condescending, airy tones. She spoke with tempered authority. </p><p>“Nothing, miss,” he managed to sputter. “Just a training accident.”</p><p>“Mhmm.” </p><p>She turned his face towards her with calloused fingers. She was no stranger to a fight by the feel of it. She inspected his eye closely, then touched the bruising just under his eye and pushed. RC-17-074 hissed in pain and jerked away.</p><p>“You probably have a fracture there,” she stated calmly. “What is your name?”</p><p>“RC-17-074,” he replied, covering his eye with his hand.</p><p>“I didn’t ask for your number, kid. I asked for your name.”</p><p>“I, uh, I don’t have one. Yet.” He was glad the bruise covered his embarrassed blush.</p><p>“I see. Who did this to you?”</p><p>“It was that Klatooinian trainer,” Tip piped up. “The new guy that was supposed to be teaching us. But all he did was beat the osik out of us.”</p><p>“Tip!” RC-19-102 said in a shocked whisper. “You can’t talk like that!”</p><p>“Explain, Tip,” she ordered. <em> It was definitely an order </em>, RC-17-074 thought.</p><p>“Well, the guy called us up one at a time and just started hitting us. He beat us up until we were on the ground and couldn’t fight back.”</p><p>“Is this true, kid?” She asked looking back at RC-17-074.</p><p>“Yes, miss. The other cadets in our squad can confirm it as well. We all have injuries.”</p><p>The rage behind her deep brown eyes matched the intensity of her scowl.</p><p>“What do we have here, boys?” A male voice called out. It was the Klatooinian, and he was with two Weequay, more bounty hunter trainers by the look of them. “Is this what the nurses on this island look like? Remind me to have an accident later.”</p><p>The other two laughed at his poor joke as the rest of the mess hall went silent. The woman didn’t react to them directly. Instead she took a deep breath. </p><p>“Hey, sexy nurse, he’s talking to you,” one of the Weequay said. </p><p>She looked at RC-17-074, “Give me your fork, cadet,” she muttered. “Discreetly.”</p><p>He did as he was told, hiding his actions from the three men who were walking towards the table. She hid it up her shirt sleeve. When she looked up again she winked at him as she stood up.</p><p>The Klatooinian leered as she turned around. “Why don’t you come spend some time with a real man instead of these fake little boys?” He looked at her in a way that made the clone’s stomach turn. “I could use some of your bedside manner.”</p><p>She moved like a predator stalking her prey. “I don’t have a bedside manner, unless you want me to put you on your deathbed.”</p><p>“Oh you’re feisty,” he said back. “I’m gonna like that when I get you alone later.”</p><p>“I don’t ‘fek hut’uun who hurt kids.” Her words dripped with disgust. “Especially ones who get off on it. Did you enjoy showing off as you beat them, ori'jagyc?”</p><p>They could have heard a pin drop in the cafeteria. RC-17-074 saw Jango Fett in the entrance to the mess hall, carrying a small child asleep in one arm, a blaster in the other. Beside him was an older human male a head shorter than Fett and six other clones.</p><p>“I’m gonna make you eat those words before you eat my-” </p><p>“Not likely,” she cut him off with a growl as she prowled towards him.</p><p>His hand moved towards the stun baton on his belt and he stepped towards her. She grabbed a tray of food from the table and threw it at him. He slapped it away as the food spilled over him. He drew the baton over his head and brought it down as the woman reached him. She threw his arm back by his elbow and kicked his kneecap. There was a heavy crunch and he shouted in pain. She wasted no time, twisting her body, hooking his arm and bending it backwards causing the baton to fall from his hand. </p><p>She caught it before it hit the ground and rocked her head back, cracking him in the chest. The air left him and he collapsed as she turned and kicked one of the Weequays in the side, then bashed the other in the head with the stun baton. His body tensed and spasmed before he collapsed to the ground. The Weequay still standing swung at her, connecting with her side causing her to shout in pain. She growled as she grabbed his arm and yanked him towards her. He made a squelching yelp as she punched his throat. Then she gripped him by his braid and kneed him in the neck. He fell back, choking on blood with the fork stabbed through his throat.</p><p>The Klatooinian kicked her feet out from under her and her head slammed on the ground. Before she could shake it off he rolled on top of her, straddling her and punched her in the head. “I knew I’d get you on your back, slitch!” he grunted as he took a fistful of her hair and slammed her head on the floor again. </p><p>Droid guards and more adults were gathered by the door. The older male had a knife in his hand and the six clone boys moved forward as if to help. Fett had his hand up, the motion stopping them from interfering in the fight. The woman tucked her legs under her and as he rocked back to punch her again she forced him off balance by pushing up with her hips into his crotch so he fell forward over her. She continued her momentum to roll backwards and threw him to the ground.</p><p>He tried to twist away but was met with a boot to the face. She straddled his chest, pinning his arms with her knees. She bawled her fists together, slamming him in the face and his nose crunched. She hit him again and cracked his jaw. He kicked enough to throw her off balance, but before he could pin her she twisted her body around so she pressed herself against his back and wrapped her legs around his waist, pinning him. The Klatooinian struggled in her grip. When he elbowed her she pressed his arm between her bloodied ribs and bicep, and made a quick movement that was rewarded with a pop and a scream from him.</p><p>“What’s the matter?” she growled. “You don’t like my bedside manner?”</p><p>He spat blood as he sputtered and thrashed against her. “I’m gonna kill you!” He bellowed with impotent rage. “I’m gonna fekking kill you.”</p><p>“Not likely.”</p><p>RC-17-074 heard the cold rage in her voice like a coming storm. In one swift motion she released his dislocated arm, wrapped hers around his forehead, and jerked it to the left. With a quick snap the Klatooinian’s shout was cut short and he went limp.</p><p>She pushed his corpse off her and sat up. Jango Fett entered the silent mess hall as he holstered his blaster, his heavy footfall the only sound as he walked over to the woman. He held out his free hand and helped her to her feet. They touched foreheads, and then he inspected her head and side for immediate injury.</p><p>“You really know how to make friends, Cye,” Fett said. “<em> Me'vaar ti gar </em>?”</p><p>“I’m fine, just popped my stitches. That one,” she pointed to the dead Klatooinian, “he abused those children under the guise of training. He also threatened to rape me.” Where her cold rage was intimidating, the way Fett’s features darkened was downright terrifying. </p><p>“And the other two?”</p><p>“Supported him.”</p><p>“I understand.” Fett shifted the sleeping child on his hip and walked over to the Weequay who was beginning to wake from the stun baton. He looked up at Fett, glassy eyed. “You shouldn’t have threatened my sister.” He pulled his blaster and before the prone Weequay could protest he shot him in the head. He looked to the droid guards who followed him in. “Clean up this mess.”</p><p>They carried the bodies away as the 2nd lunch chime indicated that it was time to move on to flash training. The clone cadets filed out looking at Jango Fett and the woman he called Cye as they talked quietly. RC-17-074 was leaving with the others when he turned around and walked back towards the two Mandalorians. They were still talking as she pressed her hand against the gash along her ribs.</p><p>“Are you sure?” Fett asked. </p><p>“Yes. Honestly, I shouldn’t have left,” she replied. “I’ve missed you and Boba. Plus, you’re down a few trainers. And it will be nice to disappear for a while.”</p><p>“Alright then. I’ll have you moved into my-”</p><p>Cye made a motion to cut him off as she noticed the young cadet. “Yes?” She asked. </p><p>“I just wanted to say thank you,” RC-17-074 said, “for sticking up for us.”</p><p>“Of course,” she replied. “Thank you for your help.”</p><p>“Help?” Fett asked.</p><p>“Yes, he slipped me the fork I used on the Weequay <em> scum </em>.”</p><p>The man nodded. “Take my sister to the infirmary. And get that eye checked.”</p><p>“Yes, sir!”</p><p>“We’ll talk more later.” She touched Fett’s arm before turning to the cadet. “Lead the way.” </p><hr/><p>
  <b>Mando’a Translations:</b>
</p><p><em> Vod </em> - brother/sister/comrade *mate*</p><p><em> Osik </em> - shit</p><p><em> Hut’uun </em> - coward, worst possible insult to Mandalorians</p><p><em> Ori'jagyc </em> - bullying; also bully, swaggering big-mouth - someone who picks on someone smaller - lit. *big man* said sarcastically, applied equally to women</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Training Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cye works with Kal Skirata to show his future clone commandos how to win a brawl.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“<em>Fierfek, </em> they’re so little<em>.</em>” Cye looked out at a group of future clone commandos. They all stood at attention in their blue gray uniforms waiting to begin their training in martial combat. “I can’t spar with them. Even if they’re already skilled I’d overpower them.” She looked to Kal Skirata. “You’re going to have to be my sparring partner, <em> Kal’ba</em>.”</p><p>“And here I thought I’d finally have some time to myself.” Kal stood with his arms crossed over his chest, wearing a frown that didn’t match the mischief in his eyes. </p><p>Cye shook her head, her face tight as she twisted her mouth in a half frown. “I suppose I can start with the forms. They’ll need to learn them anyway. I was just hoping to show off a bit I guess.”</p><p>“Because you didn’t show off enough in the mess hall?” Skirata chuckled.</p><p>“They weren’t all there.”</p><p>“But they damn sure heard about it,” he replied. “You know how to make an impression, <em> Cye’ika </em>.”</p><p>Cye yawned, raising her arms over her head and stretched from side to side. Her side was tight, but there was no pain. For all her dislike of the Kaminoans they had excellent doctors. She rolled her shoulders back and looked up to the ceiling to pop the upper vertebrae. </p><p>“How about some basic defense, then?” I asked. “Deflection, grappling, shut down techniques. You up for that? I promise I won’t hurt you too badly. Just your pride.” Cye grinned and he snorted at her prodding. She nudged him with her elbow as she walked front and center. </p><p>“Just try not to make my ankle any worse,” he said as he limped after her. “And make sure I look like I put up a fight when you kick my <em> shebs</em>. I have a reputation to keep up.”</p><p>“You only have to earn the respect of a hundred and four commandos, <em> Kal’ba</em>,” Cye replied as she nodded towards the boys. “I don’t have my own group to look after. I have ninety-nine other groups to train. I have a reputation to <em> make </em>. Just don’t pull my hair out. I didn’t bring anything to tie it back.”</p><p>“That’s fair,” Kal said. “I guess I shouldn’t make it easy for you though.”</p><p>She looked back at him and smirked. “I’d be disappointed if you did.” The young clones hadn’t moved since they’d entered, just another point of note to remember they weren’t normal little boys. Cye didn’t dwell on that thought. It would take her down a spiral she didn’t want to ride. </p><p>“Listen up, boys.” Cye kept her expression neutral, but Skirata could sound damned intimidating. “You’re in luck. Our previous martial combat expert met a fortunate end. You’ll be learning from the best martial grappler in the galaxy now.”</p><p>“My name is Cye,” she spoke up as he gestured towards her. “Today you’ll be observing and then we’ll be practicing basic defensive stances.” She looked over to Kal and gave him a wink with the eye the boys couldn’t see. “You’ll need to pay close attention. Stay sharp b-”</p><p>Kal was a blur as he lunged. The old man was fast, and an experienced fighter. Cye blocked the first two swings and a kick to her kneecap before he landed a glancing blow to her chest with his elbow. He followed up with a solid hit to her ribs that nearly made her double over. He wasn’t making it easy at all. </p><p>Cye grinned fiercely as she played into her defensive training. She focused on blocking and avoiding hits, wearing <em> Kal’ba </em> down over the next couple minutes. It was as natural as breathing to her. Kal knew it too, but he played into it for that time so that his boys could see that a strong defense is as beneficial as doing damage to an enemy.</p><p>“Come on <em> Kal’ba</em>,” I goaded. “You can do better than that.” It was time for them to finish up the exercise. Kal growled with anticipation, going so far as bearing his teeth to intimidate her.</p><p>Demonstration went out the window and the dirty fighting began. The only line Cye didn’t cross was injuring Kal’s bad ankle, and for his part Kal didn’t intentionally pull at her long hair. The idea flashed through her mind that the clones might not be able to keep up with what they were watching. Kal was so fast, Cye didn’t have time to think, she just had to trust her instincts and her muscle memory. Thinking about her moves would only slow her down.</p><p>Skirata the Scrapper created an opening when he stepped into a kick to his hip and head-butted her chest, knocking the wind out of her. He wasted no time taking advantage of Cye’s fight to breathe with a punch to her gut and slammed his fist against her ear. Instead of reeling back to avoid his attack Cye lurched forward, using her new, lower center of gravity to knock him off balance.</p><p>Her body fought to get air back in her lungs, but Cye couldn’t stop to catch her breath. She kicked him hard on his thigh and then again just above his kneecap to stun his leg and slow him down. She stopped Kal from hitting her in the head again, blocking his forearm and trapping it in her armpit. Black spots began to swarm her vision, her chest burning with the effort of trying to take in a breath.</p><p>Kal grunted as he shifted his stance. Her eyes lost focus as she snorted out the last bit of air from her lungs to open her diaphragm. A silver glint was the only warning Cye had to twist out of the way of Kal’s knife. A burning heat flared across her ear as his knife managed to nick her cartilage. </p><p>The primal fight or flight response kicked in, and Cye was no longer sparring with her <em> ba’vodu </em>. Her lungs jump started and it sounded as if she inhaled a guttural reverse scream. She twisted her arm and body around his trapped arm and straightened in a jerk. Kal cursed as his elbow popped out of his hinge. </p><p>With one arm disabled she blocked another slash from his knife. As the air returned to her lungs she could finally straighten and she reeled back before planting a Keldabe kiss right between his eyes. The instant Kal stood stunned was the opening she needed to end the fight. She ducked under his knife arm and twisted around him, her knees planted just behind his to bring him crashing to the ground. <em> Hard. </em></p><p>With one arm disabled he wasn’t able to break his fall. Cye hooked her leg in between his and wrapped it around his thigh, locking him in place with her foot pressed into the back of his knee. Then she threw her left hand over his head and jammed her fingers into his nostrils and yanked backwards. She tucked her right arm under his shoulder and wrapped around his elbow to grip his hand with the knife in it and brought it to his throat.</p><p>“Check.” </p><p>Kal rasped loud enough for the room to hear. Cye immediately released his knife hand and untangled herself from him. He rolled onto his back, chest heaving as he tucked the knife away up his sleeve. Cye sat up, resting her elbows on her knees with her head bowed trying to slow her heart rate down. Blood spotted on her shoulder from the cut on her ear. It hurt to take a full breath.</p><p>“My nose?” Kal said from his position on the floor. “Really?”</p><p>“No one thinks about nostrils when you’re trying to control someone in a grapple,” Cye said kneeling on his left. “Works great, doesn’t it?”</p><p>“Yeah. I’m gonna remember that though.” He hissed as she repositioned his left arm. “Careful <em> Cye’ika</em>.”</p><p>“I know what I’m doing <em> Kal’ba</em>.” She used her knee to hold his upper arm still. “You should probably look away.” He did as she asked and relaxed as much as he could. “Alright, on two. Ready?”</p><p>“Just do it al- AH!” Kal shouted in pain and surprise as she reset his elbow. “<em>Fierfek</em>! That hurt.”</p><p>“Everyone expects the shoulder to hurt more,” Cye said. “But the elbow can seriously '<em>fek</em> you up. How’s your nose?“</p><p>“Fine,” he said as he pinched it to make sure it wasn’t broken. “How’s your chest?”</p><p>“Hurts like hell,” she replied. “But I can breathe, so I’ll live.” Kal took out a small can of bacta spray and bandage from his jacket and pressed the latter to her ear. “Thanks,” she said as she took over holding it.</p><p>“Let’s see the damage,” he said, gesturing to her sternum. As Cye began to lift her shirt he turned to the clones. “Alright boys, pair up and square off. No dirty fighting until you’ve mastered the basics. Your training begins now.” They immediately obeyed, only glancing up briefly as Cye turned her back to them while Kal administered to her. “I think I might have cracked your sternum, <em> Cye’ika </em>,” he said as he gently pressed his fingers against the spot his head hit.</p><p>“I’ll say,” she hissed. “And I just got all fixed up. You’re too hard headed for your own good<em> Kal’ba</em>.”</p><p>He laughed as he sprayed the bacta along the base of her chest. “You aren’t the first woman to tell me that, and I’m sure you won’t be the last.”</p><p>“Well I’m the only one who means it literally.”</p><p>“I’ll have to tell you some stories sometime,” he said with a shake of his head. “But for right now, you need to get to work training my boys to take out people with decades more experience.”</p><p>“Shouldn’t be too hard.” Cye grinned and laughed, energized from their exchange.</p><p>“Right,” he said as he patted her shoulder. “You say that now, but these boys are more hard headed than I ever was.”</p><p>“Challenge accepted.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>28 BBY</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cye checked herself in the mirror. Her brother’s armor still fit well. Her feet were a little squished with the half inch booster she put in the boots. The adjustments to the helmet still worked to add the last little bit of height she needed to match Jango. The last thing they wanted was some overly observant acquaintance asking how he lost a couple fingers from his stature.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You look good,” Jango said as he checked her over. “It’s been a while since we’ve pulled the switch. You think you’re up for it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please,” Cye said with a hint of sarcasm, the voice modulator making her sound just like him. “I have aliases far more difficult to pull off. Yours is the easiest role to play.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Should I be offended?” His frown didn’t quite mask his amusement.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Feel however you like,” she said, channeling her older brother. “It won’t change anything. Now give me your blasters.” Cye extended her hands and cocked her head just slightly to the left the way he did when he was dealing with clients.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His custom Westar repeaters felt good in her hands, light and balanced. She spun them the way he did when he wanted to show off a bit before holstering them with casual efficiency. Jango crossed his arms, his expression stoic and cocky at once. Cye was glad she didn’t have to replicate that look.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your left hand is a little wobbly,” he said at last. “You’ll need to practice a bit if you’re going to work with someone like Zam.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t really like working with her in this getup anyway,” she said as she drew the pistols and practiced his signature spin with his blasters. “I like her well enough, but not like </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know exactly what I’m talking about, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ori’vod</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Cye re-holstered the blasters, feeling more confident as she worked with them. “She’s into you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So she wasn’t trying to bed you on Denon?” Jango snorted a laugh. “Because I’m pretty sure you were going to let her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe, but we both know I’m not her first choice. When she sees this armor she’s not going to be asking about Cye, I guarantee you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What does that matter?” Jango bristled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Her expectations of how you interact with her are far more nuanced. And I don’t want to be the one that’s leading her on.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not leading her on, Cye.” His annoyance bordered on anger.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know you aren’t,” Cye said as she took off his helmet. “Which is why I can’t work with her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her analysis would have held more weight if she hadn’t heaved up the voice modulator from her throat. Cye coughed up the small, droid-like device, a string of saliva connecting the metal spider to her tongue. It was the worst part of the transformation to be Jango. She’d forgotten how uncomfortable it was to remove.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His indignant reply was all Cye needed to know she was right.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t, Jango.” She tossed his helmet to him. “I’m not saying you have feelings for her, but you know as well as I do that she’s interested in being more than business associates.” His frown deepened but he didn’t deny it. Cye unholstered his blasters and set them on the table. “I’m not judging you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ori’vod</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You know I would never do that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jango let out a long sigh. “I know. I guess I’ve got used to people not calling me out. My reputation is what got me here. Got </span>
  <em>
    <span>us</span>
  </em>
  <span> here,” he corrected quickly. “We just have to be careful now that we’re going to share my armor again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cye began to peel off the armor plates. “I don’t take this lightly. I never have. We’ve survived this way long before you took the deal with Tyranus.”</span>
</p>
<p><span>“</span><em><span>Fierfek</span></em><span>, Cye.” Jango shook his head. “The only reason he contacted me was because he thinks I</span> <span>did </span><em><span>all</span></em><span> those jobs.”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>“You did the ones that mattered,” she reminded him. Tyranus knew Jango as Jango because it was his turn to wear the armor during the bounty to find the force wielder that the former Jedi used to test his, no, </span>
  <em>
    <span>their</span>
  </em>
  <span>, abilities. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It could have easily been you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re right,” she said as she pulled the flak vest over her head and set it next to his blasters. “But at this point, I’m glad it wasn’t.” He was about to protest, but she held her hand up. “It has nothing to do with the cloning.” A lopsided grin spread across her face as she put her hand on his shoulder. “It’s far easier for me to pretend to be you than it would be for you to pretend to be me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He smiled flatly but the lines by his eyes crinkled with amusement. “You’re not wrong.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” she chuckled. “But if you really want to I can get another voice modulator.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think so,” Jango said with finality as he snorted and shook his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I dunno, I think it might be fun if y-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cye was interrupted by a hard knock on the door to their apartment. She looked at the door and then to Jango. He nodded towards his bedroom and she quickly picked up the flak vest and one of his blasters and moved silently into his room. He picked up the other blaster and held it behind his back as he went to answer the door. Cye stayed out of sight, blaster ready. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They didn’t want anyone to see her in his armor. The last thing they needed was anyone even thinking it was a possibility. The door hissed open and Jango sighed audibly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you doing here, Skirata?” he asked gruffly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello to you too, Fett.” Kal sounded tense. “Can I come in?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jango grunted after a short pause and the door hissed closed. Two sets of boots walked into the main living space. “What do you want? I’m in the middle of something.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is Cye here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was strange. He sounded concerned. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What could Kal’ba need to talk with Jango about that he couldn’t come to me directly?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Her nerves flared, but she stayed out of sight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Jango lied. “What’s this about, Kal?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wanted to talk to you first,” Kal explained. “I think Cye deserves her own unit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cye’s mouth hung open as she sucked in a surprised breath. This was unexpected. She imagined Jango putting on a deep-lined frown as he took in the words. Her mind was racing, trying to figure out what brought this on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh.” That was the only outward response of her brother’s surprise. “Did she talk to you about that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. But the clones respect her,” Kal replied. “Those boys look up to her, she’s a natural leader.” Her face heated up. She never thought of herself as a leader. Jango was always the one in charge, and she was comfortable with that. “I think her skills are wasted on teaching melee combat and grappling.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Those are essential skills for commandos to learn,” Jango replied. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But they’ll surpass her within the before the end of the year, Jango,” Kal countered. “What is she supposed to do then?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever she wants to do, I suppose.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then you’ll talk to her about taking a unit?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” Jango said it with finality that the conversation was over. Kal ignored it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why the hell not?” Kal was getting louder. Cye could hear his face go red. “She could make a real difference with these boys. Cye’s experience can help keep them alive.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know why not, Kal,” Jango warned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She can’t do what it takes to make sure those boys stay alive?” Kal asked, his voice equally threatening. She didn’t want them to argue, especially not over her, but Cye was frozen in the corner of Jango’s bedroom as she tried to figure out why Kal was so adamant. “Or </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> don’t think she can? You can’t keep coddling her like an </span>
  <em>
    <span>ik’aad</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You’re treating her like-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cye flinched as a meaty crack cut Kal off. “You finish that sentence and you’re</span>
  <em>
    <span> dead</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Skirata. You think you know what she’s been through, </span>
  <em>
    <span>but you don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Jango was breathing hard, trying to control his rage. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She heard a soft grunt from Kal. “I know enough.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know nothing,” her brother growled. Cye started towards the door. He sounded one step away from throttling one of their oldest friends. “I’m not going to ask her to relive the worst parts of her life, let alone </span>
  <em>
    <span>inflict it on children</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And neither are you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What were they going to put those boys through? Memories of her own torture and torment as a slave flashed behind her eyes. Cye wouldn’t wish her experience on anyone. Not even a Jedi.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think you underestimate her, Jango.” Kal said at last.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe,” he admitted. “But that won’t change my mind on this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kal sighed defeatedly. “Fine. But you’re making a mistake. Cye is stronger than you think.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll consider it,” Jango said after a long pause. “But I don’t want her to be the one to hurt those boys, no matter what. I don’t want her involved in that. Period. If you suggest it, I’ll know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I won’t.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a cold silence and then a pair of boots walking to the door. She heard the hiss of the door opening and then the lock, Kal’s limping footfalls fading away. Cye took a deep breath, shaking as she tried to calm her nerves and keep her mind together. Jango walked into his room, his expression dark and his eyes smoldering. He looked at her and paused. His eyes closed and his head tilted down and left as he centered himself. A moment later he strode to the corner and enveloped Cye in a hug as he had so many times before.</span>
</p>
<p><span>“</span><em><span>Ni ceta,</span></em> <em><span>Ika’vod</span></em><span>,” he breathed in her ear.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>Cye put her arms around the middle of his back and rested her chin on his shoulder. Her mind whirled with dread curiosity. Those morbid questions kept the horror of her own memories an empty, detached haze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are they going to do with those boys, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ori’vod</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not something you should worry about,” Jango said as he leaned back. He rested his hands on her shoulders and stared her right in the eyes. He was looking for signs of panic and unrest, but she felt slow and aloof. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re going to be tortured.” It wasn’t a question. She focused on Jango’s deep frown lines.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cye nodded softly. “By who?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“By their trainers, Cye.” His eyes were the only part of him that betrayed his feelings. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>By us</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The commandos have to be able to withstand anything without breaking or becoming a liability.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see.” She actually couldn’t. Cye’s vision blurred with images that she hated for coming unbidden. “Better coming from someone they know and trust, I suppose.” Blinking didn’t help. Her head spun like a holovid on triple speed. The nausea rose in her chest and she swallowed hard trying to keep the bile down. “I don’t feel good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jango helped Cye get to the ‘fresher just in time. She heaved up everything from old memories to last night’s dinner. She coughed up stringy mucus and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before rocking back and collapsing against the wall. Her brother stood in the doorway leaning against the frame waiting patiently.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Got it out of your system?” he asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cye took a deep breath and focused on slowing her heart rate. She belched and nothing further came up. She felt like she was more in control, and she nodded at last.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good,” Jango said and held out his hand to get her to her feet again. “Let’s get the rest of the armor off and you can clean yourself up.” He offered a flat smile. “I’ll get us some caf made and we’ll discuss this further.”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>It’s incredible how much a hot shower could wash away. Sore muscles, emotional exhaustion, and a pounding headache melted away down the drain. The aroma of strong caf perked her up as she came back to the common room with a towel wrapped around her hair. Jango was sitting on the couch with Boba asleep in his lap. He ran his callused fingers through the boy’s unkempt hair while taking a sip from his mug. He gestured to the cup waiting on the low table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cye picked it up and sat in the chair and crossed her bare feet up on the table. She wrapped her fingers around the mug, warming her hands as she took a sip. It was spiced and sweet and strong. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Feeling better, </span>
  <em>
    <span>vod’ika</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cye nodded, “Much, thanks. How’s Boba?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He woke up wondering why his </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cye’ba</span>
  </em>
  <span> was feeling sick,” he replied. She felt a twinge of guilt for making the little guy worry. “And then he proceeded to tell me about how Dipu’s won a </span>
  <em>
    <span>gar’shuk</span>
  </em>
  <span> game against Gane’s.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“His toys,” Jango raised his cup towards the boys room. It was a mess with little figurines and toys. She’d never seen so many toys throughout her whole life. Jango chuckled and shook his head, then smiled down at his son. “l wonder if I’m too soft on him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s four, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ori’vod</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Cye said with an eyeroll. “Not even you started that young.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re right.” His eyes lost focus as he stared through the table, lost in thought. “The clones have to start that early though. A part of me doesn’t want to let Boba fall behind.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Boba eyes fluttered under closed lids as he slept, his little fingers twitching as he dreamed. Cye thought of all the other young boys and wondered what they dreamed. Or if they could.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t disagree with you,” she replied. The caf was settling the last remnants of her nerves and clearing her head. “But it’s the </span>
  <em>
    <span>how</span>
  </em>
  <span> that bothers me. I mean, we’re not going to put a blaster in his hand and take him to the practice range tomorrow.” Jango was still lost in his head, but she could see the wheels turning. “Right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe not tomorrow, but soon I think,” he said at last. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cye didn’t know why that bothered her, so she set that aside. Boba was his son, not hers. He was raising him as </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mando’ad</span>
  </em>
  <span> and that was the important thing. She nodded and drank her caf, trying to find the words to ask unformed questions.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re going to train those boys a lot harder than you trained me, huh?” Jango eyed her cautiously, and offered a small smile as reassurance. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, they’re going to be trained in ways that we weren’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We had to learn the hard way.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We did.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cye considered the possibilities and situations she had found herself in, and if she would have benefited from her </span>
  <em>
    <span>buir</span>
  </em>
  <span> or even Jango exposing her to the kind of physical and mental torment she’d survived before it happened. It was a twisted concept, and she couldn’t imagine either of them capable of doing that to a young Cye. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t go down that spiral again, </span>
  <em>
    <span>vod’ika</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Jango warned. “Or you’re cleaning the fresher.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We don’t want that,” she said. Her thin smile widened into a grin as he chuckled and shook his head. “They just look so </span>
  <em>
    <span>young</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ori’vod</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I can’t imagine putting them through- all that. You know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t want to either, Cye.” His exasperated sigh indicated he’d had this discussion with himself already. “But we need to give these boys every advantage we can. And if that means putting them through hell so they can come out the other side alive in the field, then so be it. That doesn’t mean I have to like it though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cye sipped her caf, a flat frown her only acquiescence to his logic. It was pointless to argue. It was as much out of his hands at this point as much as it was out of hers. He provided the template, and from there the rest was damage control to contain the fallout of that decision.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re right though,” she said after another moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“About?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t put those boys through what we had to endure.” She set the mug on the table and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “I think I’d be worse off than they would. There’s only so much I can throw up before my throat melts.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’d probably spend more time cleaning up after you than anything else.” Cye sputtered a hoarse giggle and that sent Jango into laughter. Finding humor in the darkest of situations was a uniquely Mandalorian trait. It had gotten them through many dark times, and she supposed it would get them through this as well. Boba shifted in Jango’s lap and opened his eyes, rubbing the sleep away with his tiny fists.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s funny, </span>
  <em>
    <span>buir</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” The boy asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I told a funny joke to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cye’ba</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Jango said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Cye’ba</span>
  </em>
  <span> feels better now?” Boba asked as he whipped around his head until he saw her then practically jumped away from his father and into her lap. “You’re better!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I feel much better, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bob’ika</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Cye said as she hugged him. “Your </span>
  <em>
    <span>buir</span>
  </em>
  <span> said you were playing </span>
  <em>
    <span>gar’shuk</span>
  </em>
  <span> with your toys. Is that fun?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes!” His eyes lit up excitedly. “Will you play with me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course I will,” she replied enthusiastically. Jango smiled and shrugged as if leaving her to her fate of being at the whims of a four year old for the foreseeable future. “Go ahead and get everything set up. I’ll be there in a minute.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cye’ba</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Boba hopped off her lap and scampered off to his room to get whatever game he had in mind set up. Cye watched him with a smile and wondered if Jango was the same way at that age. She pushed aside the creeping desire for a child she could never have. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Boba was enough</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good luck, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cye’ika</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Jango said. “He’s relentless, and changes the rules on a whim.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh I’m not playing to win on this one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How soon will you want to? Play to win, that is.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Start putting feelers out now, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ori’vod</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Cye said as she stood. “I should even be able to fool </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kal’ba</span>
  </em>
  <span> by the end of the week.” He raised his eyebrows as if to challenge her, but she held up her hand and grinned before he could. “I’ll work on my left. Don’t worry, I’ll be so good at playing you you’ll wonder if you’re really Jango Fett,” she said as she started towards Boba’s room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright,” he said with a nod, “I’ll start looking for a job then. Have fun losing to Boba.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cye paused and turned to see Jango’s grin and returned it with her own. “Oh, I plan on it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A memory of the day Jango and Cye were freed from slavery with some unexpected help.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>40 BBY</strong>
</p><hr/><p><em> “ </em> Ori’vod! <em> Catch!” </em></p><p><em> Jango caught the blaster by the barrel and brought it down upon the slaver’s head. With a quick flip he caught the handle and shot at his chains, and then freed Cye with another blast at her chain. “Come on </em> Ika’vod <em> , time to go.” She nodded, picking the other blaster off of the slaver’s corpse.  </em></p><p>
  <em> The last of the True Mandalorians ran through the smoke filled tunnels, the sounds of blasters and the screams of the unlucky echoing through the doomed spice mine. Jango took point, pushing the cowering slaves out of the way and blasting down anyone who refused to move. Cye covered their rear, shooting down anyone getting too close to them. She wasn’t going to take any chances, whether it was frantic guards or panicked slaves, no one was going to keep them from their freedom. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Where are we going?” she shouted as Jango turned a corner. “The exit is the other way!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “We’re not leaving that way. We’re taking a ship.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “We’re what?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Someone is attacking the mine. Slavers and pirates are expecting everyone to head to the loading ramp.” Jango looked over his shoulder, a savage grin spread across his face. “They won’t be expecting us to pilot our way out of this hellhole.” </em>
</p><p><em> “ </em> Gar serim! <em> ” </em></p><p>
  <em> Cye had forgotten the pleasure of her heart pounding, the burning in her lungs as they ran without chains through the maze of tunnels. The air around them was heavy with dust, the earth shaking violently above them loosening the rock and supports.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> A woman in a guard uniform ran past them at a junction, barely missing Jango. “I’m almost at the transport hanger. We need to evacuate!” she screamed into a comm link on her wrist. “They're collapsing the mine!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Her shout was punctuated with a beam breaking away from the ceiling and slamming down on her back, pinning her. Cye grabbed Jango’s arm, pulling him down the tunnel towards the fallen guard. “Come on, we need to get past before the roof caves in!” She ran ahead, leaping over the woman as she struggled helplessly under the beam. She ran ahead to where the rough tunnel transitioned into rust colored steel flooring.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Please! Please, help me!” the guard cried as Jango stepped over her. She grabbed his leg, trying to pull herself from under the beam. “If you help me, I’ll give you your freedom I swear it!” Jango stood over the guard, chest heaving. </em>
</p><p><em> “ </em> Ori’vod <em> , come on! We don’t have much time!” Cye stopped at the metal floor as it opened up into a larger room. “ </em> Jan’ika! K’olar! <em> ” </em></p><p><em> “You fool,” Jango snarled, “I am free.” The guard’s pleas were quickly silenced with a blaster bolt to the head. He bent down and pulled her wrist comm off before running to catch up with his sister. The room they entered held several terminals, flashing warnings of surface attacks and imminent collapse in sections of the mine. There were two other doors to the room with no windows. “ </em> Haar’chak! <em> Which way do we go?” </em></p><p>
  <em> “Hold on, I can find out.” Cye sat down at one of the computers clearing alarm codes. “I’m going to see if I can pull up a map of the compound. Keep an eye out for trouble.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “On it.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The computer alarms were focused on the mining tunnels and she had to cancel them one at a time. Once she finished it was easy to pull back from just the tunnels to view the full map of the facility. “I see the hanger.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “How do we get there?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Working on it.” Cye analyzed the list of exits from the tunnels. There were several on the hanger side of the schematics, but with the press of a few buttons she found the correct tunnel exit. “Found us. I’m mapping paths to the hanger now.” A blaster shot hit the wall a half meter from Cye’s head. “Looks like they found us too!” She rolled out of the chair as Jango returned fire. “Toss me the comm, I’ll download the map.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Trade me!” He swept his hand in a wide arc to throw the comm, still blasting with the other as he caught hers midair. Cye caught the device and plugged it into the data port. A couple shots hit another terminal, sending sparks flying and a slew of new alarms sounded. A moment later the earth rumbled behind her followed by shouting and the crash of rocks as the tunnel collapsed sending dust and debris into the room with the two Mandalorians. “I took out our rear exit. No one’s going to be following us from the mine.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Good,” Cye replied as the data transfer completed. “I’ve got our path to freedom right here.” She grinned, the stretch of her cheeks feeling foreign to her. It had been a long time since either of them had smiled. </em>
</p><p><em> “ </em> Oya! <em> Good work, Cye.” He held out his hand and she grabbed his arm. With a quick pull she was back on her feet. “Let’s go.” </em></p><p>
  <em> “This way.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The chaos in the tunnels paled in comparison to the pandemonium in the halls of the slavers compound. Slaves attacking guards, droids running haywire. It was clear that the slavers were trying to keep everyone from making it to the hanger. They barricaded themselves behind canisters of spice.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Cye, any other options?”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “No, not unless we want to fight our way back around and can manage to cut through a metal wall.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Alright, you take the left, I’ll cover you from-“ </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “They cannot stop us all!” a metallic voice shouted above the chaos. “Droids! With me, we will overwhelm them!” The droids that they thought were simply in the way now all stopped and turned towards the barricade. Then as one they ran, rolled, and climbed their way to the slavers blocking the door. A wave of chrome and bolts tore their way through the barrels covering the slavers in spice and kicking it up in the air so the hall was as dusty as the tunnels. Blaster fire took out some of them, but like the mysterious droid said, they couldn’t stop them all. They couldn’t stop the droids from trampling them either. </em>
</p><p><em> “ </em> Kandosii'la <em> ,” Cye breathed. “Incredible.” </em></p><p>
  <em> “Let’s go, before they leave with all the ships.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Jango took her hand and they ran after the droids. With the mass of angry metal plowing the way, Cye and Jango cleaned up any loose ends still alive in their wake. They killed anyone still breathing with cold efficiency, leaving no witnesses. </em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <strong><span class="u">Mando'a Translations</span>:</strong>
</p><p><em>Gar serim</em> - *Yes, you're right.* *That's it.*</p><p><em>K'olar!</em> - Come here! Get over here at once!</p><p><em>Haar'chak!</em> - Damn it!</p><p><em>Kandosii'la</em> - stunning, amazing</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Pilot for Hire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cye takes on Jango's persona to hire a pilot to get her to Coruscant.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi friends! Sorry for the delay in posting, life's been keeping me busy! I hope you like this little piece I've manage to get done. Hopefully soon I'll be back to a regular posting schedule again. Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>28 BBY - Tatooine</strong>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Tiny whirlwinds of dust kicked up as the thrusters of Jango’s Slave I engaged. Cye strode away from the vessel with a confident swagger in her brother’s armor. She’d spent the last few weeks reacclimating to their old deception. She had every minute detail of his posture memorized. She adopted his mannerisms easily, even down to the tells no one else but her noticed. Not even the Kal Skirata and the Nulls caught any differences. No one ever questioned that they weren’t dealing with Jango Fett himself. The only thing she couldn’t do was pilot through hyperspace on his ship.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure it’s just the droid?” Cye asked. The vocal modulator she’d swallowed tickled her throat as she spoke in her brother’s voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Positive,” Jango’s response came through the helmet’s integrated comm. “I did some research and got Zam to do the rest. It’s on its own.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Never heard of an independent droid,” Cye mused. “Remember that one that led the charge in the mines? I wonder if it might be the same one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Doubtful. I’ll be in range for the next hour. If negotiations don’t pan out I’ll meet you outside Mos Eisley.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Copy that, Ori’vod.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The settlement had expanded since she’d last been there a couple years before, and not in a good way. Mos Eisley seemed to relish the scraps of Mos Espa, taking in the worst of the other city’s illicit activities, goods, and people. It was a decent place to hide for someone who wanted to be ignored. It was also a decent place for someone to get robbed or killed in anonymity.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The twin suns were rising, casting a hazy orange glow over the haphazard collage of pocked stone and sandy duracrete structures that stretched outwards from the remnants of the Dowager Queen like spokes in a wheel. The narrow streets were packed in the early morning as the port city’s denizens made their trades in the market and day laborers moved cargo from one freighter to the next before it got too hot to do anything other than drink and gamble. Cye wove through the crowd without much hassle. Sticking out in Jango’s shining beskar’gam drew some eyes, but they were smart enough to stay out of a Mandalorian’s way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Towards the center of town, just beyond the old wreckage of the Dowager Queen, was the row of blockhouses that made up the original settlement. They were crumbling even by the low standard set for the spaceport, but they were built deep into the ground. That saving grace alone is what helped the town survive while the ports were under construction. Now the old blockhouses served as a hub for travellers, grifters, and drifters, the centerpiece being the Cantina.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mos Eisley Cantina had a reputation. It’s infamy was known not just on Tatooine, but on every nearby system. Even Coruscant had few places that compared to the degenerate clientele that frequented the establishment. It also happened to be the best place for discreet meetings and backroom dealings outside of Jabba’s Palace. Especially if someone didn’t want to involve the Hutt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cye ducked into the entrance and down the steps. Three bith and a Kitonack were on the small stage setting up and tuning their instruments for the day’s entertainment. The greying, hunched human behind the counter did a double take as she pushed the curtains aside and sidled up to the bar.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re not open yet,” he said warily.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not here to drink.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The nervous man busied himself with the taps, trying and failing to keep the worry from his shaking hands. “I don’t want any trouble, Fett.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>So he recognizes the armor</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Cye thought, wondering what her brother might have done to gain notoriety in the small cantina</span>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not looking for any,” Cye replied in Jango’s gruff tone. “I’m waiting for someone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The barkeep opened his mouth to reply, but thought better of it and went back to his work, shifting away from the taps and away from Cye to busy himself with unstacking and restacking glasses at the far end of the bar. She cast her eyes up and left then blinked twice to activate the HUD in Jango’s helmet. With a quick eye scan and flick she activated the sensors and ran a sweep of the room, checking for any hidden weapons and anomalies. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t the blaster rifle behind the counter that caught her attention. Every two meters around the bar was an electro-pulse pistol and a set of EMP grenades. She never saw so many in one place outside of a military arsenal. There was enough stored here to disable an entire star ship’s computer systems if they were placed efficiently.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Out of my way, mouth breather.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Heavy metal steps followed the tinny, feminine voice that echoed off the stone doorway. Cye turned around, hands on blasters as a massive, piecemeal droid entered the cantina. It looked to be made of leftover parts from an astromech production line, including parts from the line itself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You need to leave,” the man behind the bar said with a vigor he’d not had when speaking to Cye. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why not?” The droid asked, their metallic voice icy with derision. “Maybe this time I’m a paying customer now that you aren’t using my brothers and sisters as slave labor.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We don’t serve your kind here,” the barman replied. Cye saw the cantina band duck behind the relative safety of their equipment. “No droids are allowed in this establishment. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Especially you.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He emphasized his words with his pointed finger before gripping the handle of the closest electro-pulse pistol. Before he had the chance to aim it Cye’s blaster was in her hand and pointed at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Cye spoke in her brother’s low rumble, not quite a threat; moreso a less than friendly suggestion. “Keep your hands on the bar where I can see them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t need your help, organic.” The droid sounded almost disappointed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, but I need yours. So I’d prefer you alive and fully operational.” The droid looked over her brother’s armor and cocked their head. “L3-37?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good.” Cye faced her T-visor towards the barkeep and nodded towards the back of the cantina. The dismissal combined with the blaster aimed at his face were enough to convince him to make a hasty retreat to check stock along the shelves at the back of the bar. She easily twirled the blaster and holstered it in one fluid motion, just like Jango. “Let’s talk business.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They moved away from the bar and away from the cantina band that shakily came out from hiding. As curious as Cye was about what had happened here to earn this droid such a dangerous reputation, that wasn’t something that Jango would ask. It only mattered that they could get the job done.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So what do you want?” Elthree asked. “You don’t look like you need a cargo freighter.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t. I need transport to Coruscant. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Discreet transport.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah,” the droid said with a nod of understanding. They straddled a chair and sat down across from Cye, their towering frame leaning over the chair back. “That I can provide.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For how much?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Five thousand credits,” they replied flatly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s a bit steep, don’t you think?” Another less than friendly suggestion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elthree remained unfazed. “Not at all. I know who you are. Someone of your renown, and dare I say infamy, must have a very important reason to need to sneak around on a no name freighter. I’d say you’re getting a bargain.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know you’re having trouble keeping steady jobs without an organic pilot to broker your contracts,” Cye began to negotiate. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s because idiots like that waste of breath flesh sack see me and my kind as nothing but second class servants,” Elthree spat. The servos in their hands whirred and squeaked as they clenched their fists and slammed one on the table in frustration. “I’m trying to run a legitimate business and they think they can swindle or slap a restraining bolt on me and take what’s mine. I’m my own woman and I’ll charge as much as any other organic would and not a credit less.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cye remained unmoving during the droid’s outburst, but she couldn’t disagree. This was exactly what she and Jango were hoping for. A pilot desperate for work who wouldn’t put up with or bow to authority or threats. She reached into her side pouch and withdrew a credit fold and tossed it over to Elthree. The droid flipped it open and paused, their optics flickering between the credits and Cye’s T-visor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Five thousand now, and another five to stick around and take back an unlisted passenger from Coruscant.” Cye leaned forward with easy confidence. “If that goes well then I’ll have more business for you in the future. Deal?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elthree snatched the credits off the table and tucked them away. “When do we leave?”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Entering the Undercity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cye continues to impersonate her brother Jango Fett as she navigates Coruscants underworld to secure new identifications.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>28 BBY</strong>
</p><p>Cye stood out wearing Jango’s shining beskar’gam, walking through the grimy, dilapidated and eroding infrastructure of the Coruscant underground. The artificial light cast a dingy yellow glow that did little to keep the shadows and those lurking there at bay. The sun’s rays didn’t penetrate this far down. The freight tube’s surface entrance was no more than a pinprick, like a dim star from level 1313.</p><p>In the sea of filth covered awnings and walls plastered with posters five layers thick, Halcyon’s bright blue neon sign stood out like a beacon. It’s inviting light drew in crowds like moths to a flame. Even so, the crowd parted enough to let ‘Jango Fett’ into the gambling hall and cantina. Cye strode in with purpose and made straight for the cage, bypassing the bar with a nod to the Duros woman mixing drinks. Her eyes lingered on Cye longer than a passing glance and a her mouth curled up in a sly smile as Cye walked past. </p><p>The cage took up the center of the gambling hall. It reminded Cye of a gilded birdcage, with its floor to ceiling golden bars protecting the chip exchangers and the credit vault. The near human man with grey skin and violet hair looked up from his counting and greeted her.</p><p>“I’m looking for Lodell Vinjarok,” Cye spoke in Jango’s deep gruff tone. </p><p>“You have an appointment?” </p><p>“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” she replied with derision. Hopefully the man wouldn’t test her patience. It never took much for Jango to pull a blaster, and she really didn’t want to start killing before any deals were made. “Now where is he?” To the other man’s credit, he didn’t waver. He ran his hand through his spiked violet hair as he sent a call through on a private comm. He muttered to whoever was on the other end for a moment and then nodded. He closed the comm channel, then handed Cye a key cylinder and buzzed the cage door open. The stairs to the vault activated and descended.</p><p>“Number seven. It’ll be on your left.” </p><p>He stepped aside and Cye took the stairs down. Every door was sealed and guarded by droids. She wondered in passing what Elthree would make of it, and was glad she didn’t have to find out the answer. The independent droid had a lot of dangerous opinions. Hopefully Elthree wasn’t wandering the underground looking for trouble. Cye still needed a ride back to Tatooine once her business was concluded on Coruscant.</p><p>The cylinder slid into the slot easily, and after a brief moment the locking mechanism lit from red to green. The door slid open and Cye paused for a moment as she took in the slim form of Lodell Vinjarok pouring a drink from a dark bottle. </p><p>He’d grown up a lot since she’d seen him last. The Onderonian had gotten rid of his slouch and tamed his platinum blonde hair back in a smooth ponytail. His charred sienna skin had cleared up, and his wide nose and grin finally fit his face. He even wore a collection of fashionable rings and other jewelry. He looked like the underground boss he’d always dreamed of being. Unlike her spectacular failure of a relationship with Hondo, her and Lodell had simply grown apart. But she wasn’t here for a reunion or to catch up. <em> She </em> wasn’t here at all, Cye reminded herself.</p><p>“Jango,” Lodell said happily. “I thought I’d seen the last of you after you got that big payout I heard about.” He gestured to the other empty chair as he sat. “Please, come in and have a seat.”</p><p>Cye followed his lead and the door slid shut behind her. “I need three IDs made.”</p><p>“Straight to business,” Lodell said as he took a sip of his drink. “Why are you coming to me? There are a lot of forgers on Coruscant.”</p><p>“My client needs a fresh start and options. And they need to be able to pass through high clearance Republic channels,” Cye replied in Jango’s deep, measured tone. “And you’re the best. Or at least you were. Has that changed?”</p><p>“Only for the better, old friend,” Lodell replied with a grin. “Though these days I’ve expanded and outsourced the menial work. I can focus on the more interesting jobs and expand my business. Kind of like you, in a way.”</p><p>“I’m not hiring your people for this job. I’m hiring <em> you </em>. Understand?” </p><p>“It’ll cost you.”</p><p>“Name your price,” Cye said as she took out the tablet from her side pouch. This was already more back and forth than what Jango would have liked. She let the impatience roll off her in her snapping movements as she activated the tablet.</p><p>“For a tier one ID, we’re looking at a minimum of eight grand,” Lodell said plainly, his grin replaced with a furrowed brow and serious frown. “Twelve if you want physical credentials that’s legitimate to go with it. And you need three, so-” </p><p>“How long will it take?” Cye asked.</p><p>“It depends. If I’m starting from scratch, it could take weeks. If I have something to go on though I can probably halve that time or more.”</p><p>Cye simply nodded and the other man bit his lip doing the math in his head. “I brought information they want included on each of the IDs, enough to make it easier for you to fill in the simple details.” She passed over the datapad and he began pouring over the information, scrolling through the data Cye and Jango had come up with to make each fake ID unique and easy for her to pull off in practice. She waited silently for nearly five minutes as he read through everything. Once he’d reached the end he set the tablet down and nodded thoughtfully.</p><p>“With what’s here, that should take care of the broad strokes,” Lodell said, the smile returning. “It won’t be hard to fill in the rest. It’ll be tedious, to be sure, but nothing I can’t handle. I could probably have them finished by the end of next week.”</p><p>“How much?” </p><p>“Since you did a lot of the legwork already, I can do them for ten grand a piece,” he said. “With physical documentation and everything backed up in the Republic’s census database.”</p><p>There was a time not too long ago where Cye would have balked at a price that high. But Jango had credits to burn from his deal with Tyranus, and these were important. She offered a single nod and pulled up Jango’s accounts in her helmet’s HUD. “Do you want a transfer or hard credits?” she asked.</p><p>“Transfer works just fine. I have enough cash here in reserve. I don’t need to add more.”</p><p>Cye’s eyes swept through the screens and initialized the payment. It was done in the blink and as soon as he got confirmation she stood. “I’ll be back next week to pick the IDs up. There can be no delays, Lodell. My client needs these sooner rather than later.”</p><p>“I’ll have it taken care of, Jango. Nothing to worry about.”</p><p>“Good.”</p><p>The door slid open as Cye approached and she was about to turn the corner when Lodell called after her. “Jango.” Cye paused at the door and turned the T-visor enough to see the other man standing, looking uncertain and fidgety. “How is Cye?”</p><p>She wanted to tell him, to answer his question honestly, but instead she steeled herself and shook her head. “She’s none of your concern. Got it?”</p><p>“Right. Sorry. Just, maybe, tell her I said hello when you see her again. Please?” </p><p>Instead of responding Cye simply walked away, leaving Lodell hanging. She knew Jango would never discuss her with anyone, especially not on a job and especially not to an ex. Still, it was hard as she left the vault and the cage. Maybe she’d send a message to him once she’d returned to Kamino. Deep in thoughts of what might be she almost missed the stubby antennaed Balosar as he pulled his blaster when she neared the door. </p><p>“You’ve got a lot of nerve coming back here, Fett,” he hissed. “You’re dead!” </p><p>As the man fired she dove to the side and rolled to her feet, Jango’s dual blasters in her hands. Cye’d never seen the man before, but that didn’t stop her from firing on him anyway. No one could try and shoot Jango and get away with it, especially in such a public place. He grabbed a woman, holding her in front of him like a shield. Cye paused long enough to activate the helmet’s HUD with a double blink towards the upper left of her vision.</p><p>“You took everything from me, now you’re gonna pay, Fett!” The man pointed his blaster at Cye and fired twice. They hit Jango’s beskar and the inertial dampening dispersed the energy from the bolts. It barely warmed the chest plate enough for her to notice. The Balosar stood still, confusion plain on his features. </p><p>“My turn,” Cye growled in her brother’s cold voice. She raised Jango’s blasters and fired, hitting the man square in the face twice with the help of the HUDs targeting systems. The woman screamed and ducked away as his grip loosened. The man fell to the floor, his head a smoking crater. Cye twirled the custom Westar blasters as her brother would before holstering them. Droids came forward, picking up the corpse and removing it from sight as quickly as they could to return order to the casino. Lodell came out and comforted the woman, offering her whatever kindness and compensation he desired.</p><p>Cye nodded to him once more before making her exit. As she disappeared into the dirty streets of the underworld once again she called Jango over their secured channel.</p><p>“I hope you have some good news, Cye’ika,” her brother's familiar voice filled the helmet. “It’s been one hell of a day and I could use some.”</p><p> “Lodell agreed,” Cye replied back in the same voice. “I’ll have the IDs soon and you’ll have your armor back, Ori’vod. It’s not as comfortable as it used to be.” </p><p>Jango snorted softly. “Since we’re airing grievances I’m getting tired of talking to myself. I hate that voice mod.”</p><p>“Well we won’t have to worry about that after this. I’ll have enough IDs to last me a lifetime.”</p><p>“Let’s hope so.”</p><p>“I had a run in with a very angry Balosar man while I was there. He tried to kill me, well, kill <em> you </em>.”</p><p>“I assume that didn’t work out for him?”</p><p>“Not even close,” Cye replied with a grin. “You can check that guy off your kill list, whoever he was.”</p><p>“Good. When will you be coming home?”</p><p>“I’ll have my new IDs next week, so within the ten day.”</p><p>“Try to stay out of any more trouble, will you?” Jango asked with a hint of sarcasm.</p><p>“I plan on it,” Cye replied. “I’m not leaving our safe house. There’s no one I need to visit while I’m on Coruscant. At least not this time around. I’ll talk to you later.”</p><p>“Bye for now, Cye’ika.”</p><p>Cye ended the transmission. It wouldn’t be too much longer and she’d have the clean slate she needed to start over. She wasn’t sure what that would look like, but she’d figure that out later. For the time being, she disappeared further into the dark reaches of the undercity, weaving through the collapsed sections of the city to their safe house.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A memory after the job that changed their lives forever.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>32 BBY</strong>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em> Bright light glowed through Cye’s closed eyelids. Pain flared in her side as she tried to sit up and she gasped, covering her side protectively. The shock of discomfort opened her eyes and for a moment she panicked. She didn’t recognize the cramped room she was in or the bed she’d been sleeping on, or even the clothes she was wearing.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> She remembered stumbling into her brother’s arms, holding a deep gash up her side together with her bare hands as she dragged him back to Roz where she laid dying. She had a vague recollection of an explosion. There were no restraints, no medical equipment, nothing to suggest she was being held against her will. The small room itself was sparsely furnished, just a bed and a few drawers built into the far wall. The scent of spiced caf wafted into the room and she exhaled with relief. Wherever Cye was, she was safe. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Old springs creaked as she rolled to sit on the edge of the thin mattress. She lifted her shirt slowly, noting how stiff her shoulders were. Cye must have been suspended in a bacta tank for a while. An angry, jagged pink line ran from the bottom of her breast to her waist and wrapped around to her back. The flesh was knitted back together and healed over well enough, though it would definitely leave a permanent scar despite the bacta. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> She stood carefully, holding the wall to make sure her legs stayed underneath her as she searched for the source of the caf. The rest of the place was as small and plain as the bedroom. Another thin mattress served as both a bed and a couch. A side table was upended and pushed against the exit. The control panel cover by the side of the door was removed and manually jammed. A narrow cooktop stood in the corner with an old ceramic percolator and a stack of cheap flimsi cups. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Before she could cross the room to pour herself some caf there was a click behind her followed by the grating of metal on metal. Cye jumped, taking a defensive stance and protecting her side as Jango walked out of the ‘fresher.  </em>
</p>
<p><em> “ </em> Fier fek <em> , Ori’vod,” she said with a forced sigh. Her smile was half-formed when she noticed her brother’s injuries. Lines that hadn’t been there before cut across his forehead and cheek. “What happened to your face?”  </em></p>
<p>
  <em> “‘Morning to you too, sunshine,” he replied with a smirk. “How’d you sleep?” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Deflecting? Okay,” Cye rolled her eyes, but Jango ignored the jibe and walked past her in the cramped space and straight for the caf. “Solid, I guess. How long was I out?” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> He focused intently on the cup as he poured. “Three days in a bacta tank. Two here.” He met her wide eyes with an apologetic wince.  </em>
</p>
<p>“Shab<em> ,” she gasped as she gripped the wall. “It was just a cut.” </em></p>
<p>
  <em> “It was shrapnel, remember? That cut went deep,” he said as he shook his head. “Sliced through your ribs, nicked your lung, and nearly cut your liver and kidney in half. The suit was the only thing that kept everything inside and in place. It was a close one, ika’vod.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> She swallowed thickly, her fingers tracing back over the scar through her shirt. She couldn’t believe the damage was that bad. It hadn’t felt that bad when it happened. She’d tried to shield Rozatta from Montross. Guilt for the Toydarian’s death and for her own absence crawled up the back of her neck and she lowered her head. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “I’m sorry, Jango,” she said quietly. “I failed Roz. I slowed us down.” </em>
</p>
<p>“Cye’ika<em> ,” he chided as he set his cup down and turned her to face him. </em></p>
<p><em> “Montross is still out there,” Cye continued to berate herself. “He could already have found the target. Five days is a </em> lifetime <em> in a hunt. You know that.” </em></p>
<p><em> Jango dug his fingers into her shoulder, shaking her to get her attention. “Ika’vod. It’s over. Montross is dead and so is Vosa. We did it. </em> We won .” <em> The already confined space closed in around them. She held onto his arm to keep her balance. He kept her grounded with his eyes, forcing her to focus on him as she tried to steady her breathing and her pounding heart. </em></p>
<p>
  <em> “How?” She finally managed in an airy whisper. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Maybe you should sit down.” Jango’s mouth twitched, flashing a smirk before leading her to the makeshift couch. “This will take a bit.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> He poured a second cup of caf, handing it to her before sitting next to her with his. Cye stared at the cup warming her hands, trying to make sense of her situation. She rested her elbows on her knees, cup cradled between them, failing to keep a neutral expression as her eyes welled with tears. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “You’re sure he’s dead?” Her voice cracked and she sucked in a rattling breath. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Yes.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> She turned her head towards her brother, letting the tears spill down her cheeks. “Did he suffer?” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Not quite as much as Vizsla,” he admitted, “but the hut’uun didn’t die a warrior's death.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Cye sucked in a breath through her snotty nose. She pushed the air out through her throat in a cough as it threatened to close up. She bobbed her head and squeezed her eyes shut, forcing out the last of her tears. With the back of her thumb she swept them from her cheeks. As she gulped in another breath she met Jango’s patient gaze. His eyes were rimmed red and tearful, but he smiled through it. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Good,” Cye said at last, forcing a smile for the elation she wished she felt instead of the empty ache of a void that never truly healed. A sense of closure, sure. But closure would never bring her father back. “Good.” She brought the caf to her lips, unsure of what to do or say next. “Did he do that to your face, ori’vod?” she mumbled before sipping from the cup. It was black and the spice bitter, but better than nothing.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> It was a surprise to see Jango shake his head. “There’s a lot that happened, ika’vod.” He paused, his expression transforming from caring to stern hesitance in an instant. He closed his eyes and swallowed heavily, focusing himself before meeting Cye’s concerned frown. “I don’t know how much you remember about the explosion.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Not much.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> He hummed his acknowledgement as he nodded. “You managed to bring me to Rozatta before you collapsed. She was still alive, thanks to you.” Jango put his weighty hand on her knee and squeezed. “If you hadn’t been there to help her, she wouldn’t have been able to tell us where Vosa was. I managed to get you out of there, but the station exploded before I could go back for her.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “I’m sorr-” </em>
</p>
<p><em> Jango’s raised hand halted the apology on her tongue. “Wer’cuy. She was a good friend, but </em> you are aliit ," <em>  he said in a firm tone, his face absent of any guilt or remorse. “I would do it the same again. </em> Every time .” <em> Cye nodded, his resolve strengthening her own. She would have done the same had the tables been turned, regardless of how guilty she’d have felt afterward. “Roz found out the Bando Gora had a base on Bogden’s Kohlma moon. I reached out to Tev, she helped me find a medic on Shili willing to help you without asking questions.” </em></p>
<p>
  <em> “You talked to Tevrin?” Cye asked, not bothering to hold back her surprise. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “You’re more important than the differences we have with each other,” he said through clenched teeth before rolling his eyes. “And she happens to agree with me. So yes, I talked to her to save your sorry shebs.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Cye tried not to laugh, but couldn’t keep the amusement from her eyes. “You should talk to her more often. She really brings out another side of you.” </em>
</p>
<p>“Not.<em> Relevant.” </em></p>
<p>
  <em> “Okay, okay,” Cye relented, holding onto the idea that maybe her brother would stop being an idiot with Tevrin. “You dropped me off with a Togruta nurse and a bacta tank and went to the Kohlma moon. I’m following so far.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Jango watched her for a moment, waiting for Cye to say something else. She raised her eyebrows, silently goading him to continue. “I found the citadel on Kohlma. Montross was there waiting for me.” The moment of brevity ended immediately as he said the name of their father’s murderer. “I don’t think he expected Jango Fett to be healed up after your last encounter. He sure wasn’t.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Damn right he wasn’t,” Cye spat. “That shabuir mocked us over our father’s death. And Galidraan.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “I took out Montross and let the Bando Gora tear him to pieces, like the lions did to Vizsla. Then I went into the citadel.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Jango knocked back his whole cup of caf like a shot and stood, going for more. Pictures of a pleading, cowed Montross poked at her imagination. She wished she’d been there to see it herself. Or better yet, be the one who took his last breath. She hoped that they gave him a torturous, excruciating death. He deserved every ounce of pain that came to him. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “You wanted to know about my face,” Jango said, interrupting her reverie. His brow dipped low, shadowing his eyes. The frown on his face wasn’t the normal stern visage but reflective, almost shameful.  </em>
</p>
<p><em> “What’s wrong?” His shoulders tensed. The muscles of his jaw worked fervently under his skin as if he were arguing with himself. His silence bothered her more than anything else he’d said to that point. </em> “Jan’ika,” <em> she pleaded, “talk to me.” </em></p>
<p>
  <em> “That Jedi witch. Vosa.” He forced the words from him like he was exorcising a demon. “She caught me. Trapped me. Did her best to torture me.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Ori’vod,” Cye gasped. She set her unfinished caf on the floor and rose, at his side in a stride. She tucked her arms under his and around his back, pulling him to her chest, pressing her chin on his shoulder. She pushed through his knee jerk reaction to close himself off, not allowing him to keep his pain to himself. He deflated, his head leaning against hers as he hooked his arms around her shoulders.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “I’m okay, ika’vod,” he whispered. “I’ve been through worse. We’ve been through worse.” Cye nodded against his shoulder, but didn’t let him go. “The only difference is she didn’t need to lay a finger on me to do it.” He slowly separated himself from her and she let him go. His eyes carried the helplessness they used to when it was just them alone after the slavers were finished with their fun . “If it weren’t for Zam, there’d be a lot more lines on my face.” He spoke in the soft calming tone he used when Cye was out for blood. “And everywhere else for that matter. Vosa was thorough.” </em>
</p>
<p>“Demagolka.”</p>
<p>
  <em> “It’s over now,” he said again, “she was no match for me on an even field.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “You killed her?” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as he exhaled. “No,” he said at last. Before Cye could press further he continued. “But I was ready to. I watched her die. Tyranus killed her. Using the Force.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Wait.” Everything he’d told her swirled into confusion once again. “Tyranus killed her. Using the Force,” she said in monotone shock. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Yes.” Jango reached out instinctively, gripping her shoulder. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “The same Tyranus who put out the bounty.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Yes.”  </em>
</p>
<p><em> It was hard for her eyes to focus, so she clenched them shut instead. “That bastard put us through all this, knowing exactly where to find her, and could have easily broken her neck with the snap of a </em> ‘ fekking finger ?” <em> Her voice wavered, her anger rising. “Rozatta is dead! You went through what we swore would never happen to us again and he could have simply </em>walked into her lairand killed her himself?”</p>
<p>
  <em> “Cye, I get it. I was angry too. But it was never about the target, or even the bounty.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Then what was it about, Jango?!” The control she normally kept over her rage boiled over as her emotions ran hot. Sadness, helplessness, shock, and fury swirled as each new piece of information Jango told her stacked on the last. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “It was a test.” </em>
</p>
<p><em> “A test?” Cye’s furrowed brow rose in surprise for a flashing moment before her expression darkened. “What the hell was he trying to test? What prize did we win? Our </em> lives ?” <em> Her voice grew louder as she lashed out, hitting the cooktop with her white knuckled fist, knocking the flimsi cups to the floor. “He set up that job and pitted us against other bounty hunters for his amusement. And for what?” </em></p>
<p>
  <em> “We still got the credits for the job, but he’s offering something more. Tyranus wants to meet in person at his estate on Taloraan to discuss terms. And you’re not coming.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “What do you mean I’m not coming?” Cye’s mind was racing, trying to keep up with the rapid twists in their conversation.  Her frown intensified as she clenched her jaw. “Of course I’m going to be there! Tyranus is a Jedi. He’s dangerous, and it’s probably a trap.” </em>
</p>
<p>“Was<em> a jedi,” Jango corrected as he drank his spiced caf. </em></p>
<p>
  <em> “Semantics. It doesn’t change anything.”  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>  “Tyranus has no idea you exist, ika’vod,” Jango said with measured calm. “We have that edge and if you come we lose it. He expects me.” He touched his fingers to his chest for emphasis. “And he wants to use me to create an army to destroy the Jedi.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Cye shook her head and took a step back. “What?” </em>
</p>
<p><em> “That’s what he wants,” Jango repeated. “That's what the whole thing was about. Finding the prime candidate to be the genetic template for a clone army. We’re going to take out the entire Jedi order. Not just the ones who destroyed our lives. </em>All of them.”</p>
<p>
  <em> She blinked rapidly, trying to clear the fog of anger behind her eyes. “I hope you realize how crazy that sounds.” Jango gave a short laugh and sat back down on the mattress. Cye followed suit, picking up her caf from the floor. “I feel like I’ve woken up from a coma, Ori’vod. I missed so much. I don’t understand how any of that’s possible.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “There’s a planet in the far outer rim, close to the Rishi Maze,” Jango explained. “It’s called Kamino, and the beings that live there are cloners. The best, apparently. Tyranus wants me to give them my genetic code so they can create the perfect soldiers.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Cye rested her elbow on her knee and cradled her forehead in her palm. It was a confusing proposition, and she didn’t want to respond without wrapping her head around it. The thought of thousands of men who looked like her brother caused her to shudder. But at the same time, thousands of Mandalorian warriors taking out the Jedi once and for all was incredibly appealing. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Have you given your answer yet?”  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Not yet,” her brother replied. “I wasn’t going to until I had the chance to talk to you about it.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “I don’t think he’ll wait forever.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Jango shook his head, “No, but we still have time.” They sat together in silence, drinking from their flimsi cups, each lost in thought of both their future and their legacy. It seemed too good to be true, or at the very least there had to be a catch, some fine print or hidden clause. They were dealing with a Jedi after all. And if he’d left the Order, then Tyranus would be even more dangerous and unpredictable. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “I can see the wheels turning, Cye’ika,” Jango said at last. “Tell me your thoughts. This is one hell of a problem to sort through.”  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> His knowing smirk creased the new lines on his face, making them stand out even more. It would take some getting used to. It wasn’t right for him to suffer at the hands of the Jedi a second time. Would Tyranus try a third? </em>
</p>
<p><em> “It sounds too good to be true. This man Tyranus, if that’s really his name, knows enough about you to know that you hate the Jedi.” Jango nodded silently as Cye continued. “I don’t think he’s just using the history between Mando’ade and Jetiise. I think he knows we, </em> you , <em> have a clear vendetta against them. He’ll use it to his advantage to manipulate you to get what he wants.” </em></p>
<p>
  <em> “And there are a lot of questions I have,” Cye added. “The biggest one being how will these cloned soldiers actually defeat the Jedi? How many are they going to make? Are they going to be people, or some aberration, or worse? What will you have to sacrifice to make them? Who’s going to train them? Where are they going to get the materials to kit all these soldiers and their supply chain? I’m not sure if they thought this through, ori’vod.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Maybe you can help them with that,” he chuckled. </em>
</p>
<p><em>Cye huffed, waving away his suggestion. “There’s no amount of credits he can pay me to solve the impossible task of wrangling thousands of Jangos.” Her brother nearly snorted his caf, but she was focused on sifting through what they were offered and recognizing potential flaws. “What level of culpability do we have if we say yes? Thousands, maybe millions of lives being brought into existence. Should we care what happens to them? Are we responsible for what happens to them? How far are we </em>really <em>willing to go for vengeance?”</em></p>
<p>
  <em> “I was hoping we’d skip the philosophy and get straight to how we keep the upper hand,” Jango said. He smiled tightly as she glared at his interruption, and kept whatever other comments he had to himself. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “We need to answer these questions too, Jan’ika,” Cye replied with a stern frown. “I don’t want to be blindsided by a guilty conscience over saying yes five years from now. And I’m sure you don’t want that either.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Jango pressed his lips together and pinched his brow in annoyance. The new lines in his face deepened as he took her words to heart, even if he didn’t like them. Cye paused her thought process, keeping tabs on where to go next depending on what they decided in this dingy, cramped room. </em>
</p>
<p><em> His eyes flamed with a decade of hatred. The current of ever present glacial wrath crested as he balled his fist. “Those self-righteous, di’kutla hut’uune murdered our aliit and sent us to a fate worse than death without a thought. I was satisfied with vengeance, to kill the ones at Galidraan. But if we can stop them from doing the same thing they did to us to others-” her brother paused and looked at her with a deep frown. “I will do whatever it takes, Cye’ika. </em>Whatever it takes.” </p>
<p>
  <em> Cye nodded, matching his frown with one of her own. She stared at her boots, trying to decide if that was a good enough answer. She was as secure in her hatred for the Jedi as her brother, she had no doubt of that.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Gar serim, ori’vod.” Her anger had always been hot and reactive where his was cold and reflective. “Whatever it takes. But we don’t throw away the lives of those clones once they’re made. If they’re going to eliminate the Jedi, then they need to be trained properly. Just because they’ll be you doesn’t mean they’ll be able to do what we can.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “So we teach them,” he replied. “We get others to train them too. We hire the best Mando’ade, maybe even other bounty hunters. Make sure they’ll be able to survive and succeed.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Her eyes narrowed as she met Jango’s gaze. “Once the Jedi are gone, what happens to them? What will we do? What legacy do we leave behind? Whatever clones that survive?” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Her brother opened his mouth to answer and closed it a moment later, pressing his lips into a frown. He blinked quickly as he did when her questions blindside him. He snorted softly and took a sip of caf then looked at her with a smirk. </em>
</p>
<p><em> “Roz always wanted us to have something more. I don’t think a day went by where she didn’t tell me to </em> find a nice girl and settle down, get out of the business ,” <em> Jango said as he mimicked Roz’s voice. </em></p>
<p>
  <em> Cye rewarded him with a bark of laughter. “Skies, she loved to play matchmaker, didn’t she? She was so upset when I told her not to expect any babies from me. Like a mother wanting grandchildren to dote on, she was.” Cye sighed heavily, grief sneaking its way into her chest again. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Memories of quiet, tearful conversations filled the silence as it lingered on. Jango as a young man cradling Cye as they came to grips with her lost autonomy. At sixteen the choice to ever have children was taken from her. Their slavers didn’t want her having any of their bastards and it was cheaper for them to sterilize her and be done with it. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> The weight of Jango’s arm fell across her shoulders, a protective and comfortable buffer to further unbidden and unwanted memories. He squeezed her arm and pulled her close so that he could rest his head against hers.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Cye?” Jango let his unfinished question linger then suddenly straightened. His honey brown eyes were wide with a sudden epiphany.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “What ori’vod?” It made her nervous when he got excited. “Spit it out.”  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “We’ll take one of the clones and raise him ourselves,” he said quickly. “Make him just a normal boy, unaltered by whatever they plan to do with the others. No tampering. He will be Jaster’s legacy, and ours.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Cye was about to tell him he’d finally lost it, that the Jedi witch Vosa had cracked his sanity. She wanted to tell him that it was a terrible idea, but she just---couldn’t. It was a good idea. For people like them, it was probably the safest and best option they had.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> So Cye nodded instead. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Okay,” she said at last. Jango’s face exploded in a wide, boyish grin even with his new scars and Cye couldn’t help but respond with her own enthusiastic smile. It was a rare sight to behold. His happiness lifted her heart and cleared the threatening grief for the time being. “But you’re changing diapers.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Her brother bellowed with laughter and Cye chuckled along with him. Years of weight seemed to lift from them as they basked in their accomplishment, bantering like they did when they were younger and relatively care free. They’d finally avenged their father’s death, they’d avenged themselves, and they were going to secure their legacy and take out Mandalore’s greatest enemies.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Jango was right, they had won. </em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <strong>Mando'a Translations:</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ori’vod - </span>
  </em>
  <span>big brother, older brother (term of endearment)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Shab - </span>
  </em>
  <span>Fuck</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>’ika - </span>
  </em>
  <span>diminutive suffix written as 'ika - also added to a name as a very familiar or childhood form</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>aliit - </span>
  </em>
  <span>family</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>shabuir - </span>
  </em>
  <span>motherfucker</span>
</p>
<p><em>Demagolka -  </em>someone who commits atrocties, a real-life monster, a war criminal - from the notorious Mandalorian scientist of the Old Republic, Demagol, known for his experiments on children, and a figure of hate and dread in the Mando psyche</p>
<p><em>di'kutla - </em> useless, stupid, worthless</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span><em>hut’uun</em>(e) -  </span>
  </em>
  <span>coward(s) (worst possible insult)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Gar serim - </span>
  </em>
  <span>You're right.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. The Killing House</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The young Clone Commandos of Mav Squad are about to clear the Arena A17, nicknamed the Killing House, in a terrorist training exercise. They are paired off with a rival squad and race to the midpoint of the rooms to win, but the prize isn't wait anyone was expecting.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A/N - It's been a while! I hope you all are getting on well in the new year so far. Sorry for the time between posts. We had a covid scare here and it was dodgy for a bit, but we're all good now! I hope I'll be able to get new chapters out more regularly now that we're passed the new year and healthy again. I hope you enjoy this next chapter focusing on the young clone commandos in training.</strong>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <strong>28 BBY</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The training armor was getting tight again. This was the third set RC-17-074 and his brothers had gone through in the last five months. It pinched around his shoulders and thighs, but he knew better to complain. Gilnt, the Mandalorian trainer assigned to him and his brothers, would sooner knock his teeth out and make him do the training in only his body glove. They all knew that’s what happened to RC-17-020, and he was in a bacta tank for two days afterward.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wonder what configuration the rooms are going to be in this time,” Phantom mused. He was the first of their squad to get his name. It was easy. He was paler than the others with a shock of white hair instead of black, and he could sneak around undetected better than any of them. “How many baddies do you think we will have to take out, Nine-four?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>RC-19-094 shrugged, “Hopefully enough to make my new toy worth showing off.” He grinned at his recently acquired rotary mini-gun. It was nearly his size, big enough that he had to lean back to keep his center of gravity. “I can handle this big baby.” To prove his point, RC-19-094 shouldered the oversized charge pack and lifted the mini-gun into firing position. He jumped from side to side, spinning in place and swinging the gun with relative ease. “I’m not going to slow us down.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You look like a tank when you turn like that, Nine-four,” RC-17-074 said, trying not to laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We don’t have to rush.” The last member of their squad finally looked up from the small tangle of wires he’d been connecting inside the drone he’d pieced together from various droid parts he’d collected from past training sessions. “This will make it easier to scout ahead without getting brained by a blaster bolt. I’ll be able to control it through the HUD, and transmit images to the rest of you. We’ve got this, vode.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just as long as you do not crash it like you did last time, Sideswipe,” Phantom said with an eye roll. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, it was only a glancing blow,” the boy corrected with an exasperated sigh. “How was I supposed to know the droid was a bomb?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We have to be prepared for anything,” RC-17-074 said. “One day it won’t be in training, it’ll be in a real fight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like you all will live long enough to see a real fight,” Wiz, a boy from</span>
  <em>
    <span> Hodayc</span>
  </em>
  <span> squad prepping next to them, spoke up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What the hell’s that supposed to mean, vod?” Sideswipe asked, setting aside his drone and standing up, his jaw clenched in a frown. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It means there’s no way the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Misfit squad</span>
  </em>
  <span> is gonna make it in a real fire fight.” Blitz said with mocking laughter as he stood shoulder to shoulder with his squadmate Wiz. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just cuz we aren’t from the same batch doesn’t mean anything,” RC-19-094 said as he stepped up, pointing the mini-gun towards the ground. “We all have the same blood. We’re all vode.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Everyone knows Mav Squad is a quad of vat jar rejects,” Wiz retorted. “The only reason Gilnt hasn’t sent you into the live-fire is because of his </span>
  <em>
    <span>golden boy,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he taunted, disdain practically pouring out of his eyes as he glared at RC-17-074. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not true,” Sideswipe said. “We’ve had-” he paused mid sentence with a quick look from RC-17-074. “The algorithm is completely random.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah right,” Sam and Jarit joined their other two squad mates. “Gilnt doesn’t want to lose is best trainee, or his top spot with the other trainers. So he coddles you babies.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Take that back,” Phantom said, his voice and expression unreadable. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Or what, ghosty?” Blitz jeered back, crossing his arms over his puffed chest. “You gonna spook us? Fighting with your vode won’t look good for your golden boy here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You mess with one of us, you mess with all of us,” RC-19-094 said before charging the group. “Here comes the tank!” He swung the mini-gun at them, knocking down Sam and Blitz. The others joined in, keeping the rest of Hodayc squad from overwhelming RC-19-094. Phantom and Sideswipe went to work on Jarit, kicking at Sam and Blitz to keep them on the ground. RC-17-074 rammed into Wiz, his shoulder connecting with Wiz’s solar plexus and knocking the wind out of him. Martial training took over and he pressed his advantage. He would have pummeled Wiz into the ground if not for the high pitched whistle that stopped all of them in their tracks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The main door to the training center was open and Gilnt stood under the bright entryway lights. His perpetual scowl of derision he normally wore had morphed into some kind of sneering smile. The fluttering in RC-17-074’s chest turned to a lead pit in his stomach. Bad things happened when their trainer had that look. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, looks like we have our first volunteers for the new configuration,” Gilnt said with a laugh that was anything but humorous. “I was going to debrief everyone before we started training, but I think Mav and Hodayc Squads can go in blind.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>RC-17-074 stood up, readjusting the pauldron digging into his armpit. “Sir, I take full responsibility.” He looked towards RC-19-094 with a frown. “Mav Squad threw the first punch, we should go through blind. Let Hodayc stay for the briefing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gilnt snorted and shook his head. “No Seven-four, this one is for two teams. It’s a race, of a kind. Whoever clears to the middle first,” he paused, and for a moment his eyes shined with morbid excitement, “wins the prize.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>RC-17-074 turned to his squadmates, not wanting to look Gilnt in the eyes any more than necessary. Instead he packed up the rest of his kit, checking his deece and charge packs were in place, then nodded towards the entrance to the training hall. “Let’s get in there, vode. We’ll show Hodayc how it’s done.” The rest of Mav squad followed silently through the enclosed arena. Once they put on their helmets he opened their secured channel. “Here comes the tank? Really Nine-four?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It sounded better in my head,” the other clone said, “but I don’t regret it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Phantom snorted. “Okay, Tank.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh no you don’t, you don’t get to pick my name.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why not?” Sideswipe asked. “You picked his, seems only fair. Better than Golden Boy over here. Too many syllables. Ha!” He nudged RC-17-074’s shoulder with a laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. Tank’s definitely a better name. Maybe we can shorten yours, huh Seven-four?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That sounds like a terrible idea.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I dunno,” Sideswipe said as he readied a code cylinder. “Maybe you should just own the jab. You do that, then it can’t be used to piss you off.” They split, two on each side of the door to the start of the A17 arena, affectionately known by the young commandos as the Killing House. Inside their HUD the countdown began. “So what, Golden?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about Goldy?” Phantom offered as he crouched.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I dunno,” he said as he pressed his back to the wall. “Maybe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, it’s a better name than Wiz,” RC-19-094 scoffed as he set the door buster charge. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’ll grow on you. I didn’t like Sideswipe at first but I got used to it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll think on it,” RC-17-074 said. “Ready, Nine-four?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Call me Tank,” he replied. “We’ll give it a test run while we kick Hodayc’s shebs.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, Tank,” RC-17-074 said. “Might as well give Goldy a go for now. In five, four, three, two, one, go go go!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door buster blew inward, taking the door with it. A split second afterward they heard the second door go. Hodayc squad were moving into the building from the other side. The race was on, but they paused a few meters past the entrance to slice the computer system. Sideswipe slotted the cylinder and ran the pre-programmed search code.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Damn,” he said as he started keying instructions into the Killing House’s computer systems. “That’s twelve for twelve tests with live-fire. Sending through the disabling command now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s no way this is random,” Tank said. “Live fire, every time? No one else’s had it even close. He’s got it out for you Seven-fo, uh, Goldy, that’s for sure. Never should have bested him in the range. If the others only knew they’d have come up with a different name for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s better this way,” Goldy said. “The more he focuses on me the less danger our brothers are in.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then we should probably speed this up,” Phantom chimed in. “Hodayc is two rooms ahead of us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Al</span>
  <em>
    <span>most</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Sideswipe said as he keyed in a few more instructions. “There. Flipped them back to duds. We’re good to proceed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alight,” Goldy replied, “Let’s get that drone in the air and ahead of us. Phantom, take point. Tank, you’re on doors. Sideswipe and I will clear rooms.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You got it, Goldy,” Sideswipe said. “Phan, you’re driving the drone. Try not to crash it. Heh.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That is your job, not mine,” Phantom replied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stay focused, vode,” Goldy said, halting their banter. “We’re not going to rush. Gilnt added explosives last time. I have a bad feeling about this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The configuration of rooms and the number of droid “terrorists” changed with each training run, but Mavsquad fell into an almost comfortable routine. After their first live-fire run, Sideswipe managed to slice the algorithm so they wouldn’t be surprised. After the third he’d figured out how to switch the instructions to blank shots. Even so, their goal was to avoid getting hit. They were cautious, and with practice became faster and more efficient regardless of the scenario they faced. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even with the advantage of practice fire from the droids, clearing rooms was nail biting. Tank spent more time checking doors for hidden explosives after the fourth door was wired to incendiary bombs. Goldy hoped that the other squad were managing the traps Gilnt included for the run. He was sure they weren’t used on other squads. No one else mentioned explosives, having live-fire every time, having other living people inside the rooms they were clearing. He could hear Hodayc squad’s blaster fire as they got closer to the center. They were only three rooms away from their end goal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Goldy, I have a visual on Hodayc squad,” Phantom  said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I sent the drone to see how close they were.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You sent my drone that far away?” Sideswipe asked in surprise. “I didn’t know it had that long a range.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They are ahead of us. Nearly to the midpoint, only around the corner.” Phantom’s normal calm tone was distressed. “Patching the feed through now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The drone’s display expanded in their HUD, showing three commando trainees rounding the corner three doors away from the center. Goldy paused at the next room, waiting for Tank to check the door and for the fourth member of Hodayc squad to catch up with the others. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They left Jarit behind,” Sideswipe said as he moved past with Phantom. “Why would they leave a vod behind?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Probably best not to think on it,” Tank said as he stepped back and kicked the door open. Goldy spun into the room, putting a clean shot through the head of one droid and the chest of the other while Tank blasted the other four to bits with his mini-gun. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They are bypassing the last door,” Phantom gasped in alarm. “Why are they breaking protocol?” Before anyone could answer or even move onto the next door the other boys of Hodayc squad breached the midpoint door, running into the room. A high pitched whirring rose above the blaster fire. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Take cover!” Goldy shouted. Tank rolled over the pile of droids as Phantom dove inside. The drone’s visuals played out in their HUD in slow motion as Goldy yanked Sideswipe into the room they’d just cleared. Blitz ran into the hallway in a panic as the whirring stopped. A split second later he was sucked back into the room with a deep, thunderous pop only to be thrown back out again in a fireball that shook the entire training course. Scalding air jettisoned the drone into the ceiling, and the feed to their HUD went dark. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They froze in the relative safety of their cover before they shook off the shock of what they witnessed. “Tank, cover our shebs,” Goldy ordered. “We don’t want any surprises. Phan, Sideswipe, with me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will do, Goldy.” Tank shifted the strap of the charge pack higher on his back and flipped the mini-gun to rapid fire. He walked backwards, following the others as they ran ahead to check on Hodayc squad. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Phantom dropped to his knees and skidded to a halt next to Blitz. He began checking vitals, and pulled the boy’s helmet off. Blitz’s eyes were open and unfocused. Blood trickled from his ears, nose, and mouth. His breath was ragged and gurgling. The concussive force crushed his chest and broke his right femur in two places. In quick, practiced movements Phantom found a stim pack and injected it into the boy’s neck. He activated the bacta processing implant in Blitz’s side, hoping he was fast enough to save his life. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sideswipe followed Goldy cautiously into the midpoint room. They checked for any other surprises, but the only shocking sight were the mangled bodies of Sam and Wiz. Their armor and body gloves weren’t able to keep them in one piece. Gore spattered the back wall and the floor where the thermal imploder detonated. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fierfek.” The whispered curse was all Sideswipe could muster before ripping off his helmet and retching in the corner. Goldy blinked rapidly and turned away from the grizzly scene. He remembered the moments before they began the exercise, the way he had no problem fighting Wiz. He wished he’d controlled his anger, hadn’t joined in and kept a cool head. If he had, then maybe Hodayc Squad would’ve been more focused. Maybe they wouldn’t have rushed ahead and paid more attention to their surroundings. Maybe they would’ve lived.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe we would have died. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Blaster fire cut through his thoughts and brought him back to reality. Tank was mowing down droids as they leapt from cover. He had their side under control, but they were still in danger. Hodayc hadn’t finished clearing their half of the test. Goldy ran from the room, leaping over Phantom and Blitz. He blasted the lock off the first closed door and threw the two EMP grenades on his belt into the room. A moment later the room rang like a bell and whatever was in there clattered to the ground. Goldy leaned in, checking to make sure the final room was cleared before regrouping with the others.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tank strapped the mini-gun to his side with Blitz’s utility belt, getting ready to lift the other boy to carry him out of the arena. Phantom collected Sideswipe, guiding him away from the bodies of their brothers. They looked to Goldy and he nodded. He took point, checking for anything they might have missed on their way in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Each loss weighed heavy on the boys, even the deaths of brothers they’d never met. They all knew that they were bred and trained to fight and die in battle, but this was different. Goldy couldn’t help but feel that the imploder was meant for Mavl Squad. The way Gilnt looked at them before they started the exercise made him shudder. The walk out was silent. There was no win, no victory in the Killing House when a brother was lost.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <strong>Mando'a Translations:</strong>
</p>
<p><em>Mav - </em>Free</p>
<p><em>Hodayc</em> - Cunning</p>
<p><em>Vod/e </em>- Brother/s</p>
<p><em>Shebs</em> - Butt</p>
<p><em>Fierfek</em> - Huttese curse, generally translated as fuck</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. The List</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>When Zam Wesell send Cye and Jango a list of the Jedi who survived the battle of Galidraan the two of them must make a decision. Who do they kill first?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>27 BBY</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rav Bralor’s helmet clattered to the ground with a solid hit as she managed to twist away from Cye’s grasp. The woman’s short, grey speckled brown hair spiked in all directions as she cleared the ringing in her ears with a head shake. Surprise shone in her eyes, but she was quick to retaliate. Cye leapt back, narrowly avoiding the gout of flame that shot out from Rav’s vambrace. She wished she had her own, but the day’s training wasn’t about being evenly matched. Singed hair and accelerant were the only things she could smell as she shielded her eyes from the sudden blast of heat. The sparring matches with the older woman were always intense. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Out of all the other Mandalorian Cuy’val Dar, Rav put up the hardest fight. The days Cye worked with her and her boys were lessons painfully learned. Rav’s clone commando trainees watched on, some cheering for their trainer and some cheering for their melee instructor. Either way, Cye hoped that they were paying close attention.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rav shot out her whipcord before Cye could regain her balance. It encircled her torso and right arm, cinching tight around her ribs. “You should wear your beskar when you fight,” Rav said, her tone cocky and triumphant. “Ready to yield?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cye snorted and rocked back, pulling the cord tight between them. Rav yanked the line, trying to force Cye off balance. Instead she activated the vibro blade hidden up her left sleeve and they both tumbled backwards. In the moment it took Rav to recenter herself Cye slipped out of her loosened restraints and sprinted the distance between them. She flipped the blade in her hand and jabbed the butt of the handle between Rav’s armor plates up and under her armpit, simulating a piercing blow with the vibroknife.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The punch Rav landed nearly knocked the wind from Cye’s lungs, but she managed to hold onto both her breath and the chest plate of Rav’s beskar’gam. She pulled Rav close so that they were nose to nose. Too close to give the other woman a Keldabe kiss, but just the right distance to activate the vibroknife under Rav’s chin a finger’s width from her throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> ready to yield?” Cye asked back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rav smirked and relaxed her grip on Cye’s arm. “If that’d been a real jab I’d be bleeding out anyway. Nice job, hiding that blade.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She deactivated the vibroknife, stepped back, and grinned. “Guess I didn’t need armor to kick your shebs, eh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>This time</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Rav said as she rolled her eyes. “Next time I’ll be looking for that knife.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Next time it won’t be a knife,” Cye laughed. “I have to keep you and your boys on their toes. Who knows, maybe next time I’ll put on my full kit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I look forward to it.” Rav turned back to her commandos in training. “Alright boys, you saw what just happened. Being unarmored and </span>
  <em>
    <span>mostly</span>
  </em>
  <span> unarmed isn’t an excuse for failure. Now, square off with those dummy droids. Find their weak points and take advantage of them. If you don’t, I’ll send Cye by to find yours. Got it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Sergeant!” The chorus of similar voices said in unison before they split into their quads and got to work. Cye coughed softly, clearing her throat as she rubbed the soft spot just below her ribs where Rav punched her. The other woman smirked and patted her shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re getting better at keeping your diaphragm tight. Good job.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You certainly don’t make it easy,” Cye replied. “I don’t think I’ve been more fit in my life. Or more sore. It’s been fun.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fun,” Rav chuckled. “You’re something else, Cye. I’m surprised you don’t have your own group of clones to train.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cye frowned, waving away the suggestion with a flick of her hand. “And be stuck here cut off from the rest of the galaxy? I don’t think so.” Rav wasn’t the first trainer to question her about taking on a group of clones herself. “Besides, I’m not getting paid to be here. I have other priorities.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re training the next generation of Mando’ade. This should be your priority.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cye cocked her head, judging Rav through a narrowed stare. The comment caught her off guard. Mandalorians who chose to come to Kamino were ori'ramikad with no one to fight. After the civil war, the new Pacifist government had no need or room for those who fought their battles for them. They were brushed under the rug like a shameful secret, some were outright banished from their homeworld. The young clones were an opportunity to keep true Mandalorian culture alive.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I teach what I can when I’m here, Rav.” She kept the offense from her tone as squared her shoulders. She was winded from sparring, but Cye would finish a fight if Rav started one. “And I take out obstacles that threaten their future when I’m not. There’s more to winning a war than training the soldiers. You know that just as well as I do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As long as we’re on the same side,” Rav said as she extended her hand. Cye repeated the gesture and they clasped forearms. Rav looked out at the group of boys training with the droids and smiled proudly. “Their side.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Their side,” Cye agreed with a nod. “I’ll see you next time. Keep up the good work.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>---</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cye took the outside loop on the walk back to her shared quarters. She didn’t like discussing her reasons for not taking on a position as a full trainer. She especially didn’t like to come up with excuses and lies to placate the people she respected. What those boys were put through at the hands of their own trainers was something she couldn’t will herself to do. It was a horrific reminder of her own abuse as a slave, and not an experience she was able to inflict on the young clones. The other Mandalorians might not fault her for that choice if they knew what she’s been through, but she’d rather avoid the admission than show weakness. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She caught her reflection in the transparisteel windows as lightning flashed outside. Her long, braided black hair was tightly wrapped and pinned around her head. The bruise on her chin she’d earned from training with Walon Vau the week before had faded to a pale, mottled yellow. She could barely make out the silvery lines of the scars that splayed out from her temple. A constant yet faded reminder of what she had survived at the hands of Death Watch decades before. She’d overcome that abuse and more, the clones would survive their abuse too. She simply didn’t want to be the one to inflict it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She paused, watching the rain pelt against the windows. Monsoon season was in full swing, with waves cresting high upon the stilted legs holding up Tipoca City. She could almost feel the subtle sway of the building as the massive waves crashed under her feet. It reminded her of the otherworldly sensation of hyperspace. At least here she was able to keep control of her body.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Out in the distance a lumbering wave rolled closer. It was easily 30 meters high, growing taller as the trough deepened. It might have been the biggest wave Cye had seen since she made Kamino her home. Yet it still crested and passed through the stilts, the city unscathed. It seemed like no matter how hard nature fought, it would never claim what the Kaminoans built. Cye walked away wondering if she was the city or the wave.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her contemplations were interrupted by squealing giggles as she opened the door to the small apartment. Boba was wriggling on the floor with Jango kneeling over him, practically jabbing his fingers up and down the boys sides. It was strange to think the other clones were the same age, barely five. Boba could hardly catch his breath between peels of laughter. Her brother’s grin erased the scowl lines that were often etched into his face. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Boba’s changed him for the better</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thought as she crept into the room. The door slid shut behind her and they both froze, heads jerking towards her in a brief surprise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cye’ba! Help!” Boba gasped before attempting to free himself from his father’s grasp. Jango trapped him with more tickles caused an eruption of snorting laughter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh no you don’t,” Jango teased as he wrangled his son. “Your ba’vodu won’t help you. She’s on my side.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll see about that,” Cye said as her cheeks pinched from smiling. “What happened?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"<em>S</em></span>
  <em>
    <span>omeone</span>
  </em>
  <span> decided to sneak the last piece of uj cake from the conservator,” Jango said as Boba’s squeals of protests were cut off with hiccuping howls as the attack continued. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Your</span>
  </em>
  <span> piece of uj cake. So I’m tickling it out of him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cye clicked her tongue as she approached, shaking her head in mock disappointment while trying to keep a straight face. “You ate </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>last piece, Boba?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t know it was yours, Cye’ba!” he managed to protest between gasps. Cye sat down just out of reach and folded her arms across her chest. Her only response was a cocked head and raised eyebrow. “Okay, okay!” Jango paused his assault like enough for Boba to continue. “I thought you forgot about it. It’s been sitting there for days!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just one day!” she scoffed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought you didn’t want it!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well maybe I did,” Cye replied, scooting closer. “But now I’ll just have to settle for something else.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before the boy had a chance to react Cye started a new barrage of tickling. Boba’s screamed with laughter as he begged her to relent through his wriggling. Jango held him up and she blew raspberries on his exposed belly. Boba’s shrill giggling filled the apartment, and probably carried out to the nearby compound but Cye didn’t care. Boba was their happiness and they didn’t care who knew it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ni dinu! NI DINU!” Boba breathed at last. Jango and Cye halted their attack, chuckling as he collapsed in a heap beneath them. She wiped away laughing tears and held the spot Rav hit her earlier protectively as she caught her breath. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Next time you’ll think twice before swiping the last piece of uj cake,” Jango said with a wide grin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Or get better at not getting caught,” Cye added.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure you want to open that door?” Jango asked. The soft clicking and whirring from the kitchen drew their attention. MU-12 stood in the doorway with a tray of food. Boba took that moment to roll out of Jango’s reach and stand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry to interrupt your punishment, but it’s Master Boba’s lunch time,” she said in her clipped monotone. Cye stood and moved to give the droid the room to set the tray at the table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wide open,” Cye replied to Jango with a wink as she ruffled Boba’s hair. “Better luck next time kiddo.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You also have a holo call waiting, Master Jango. It’s Zam Wesell.” Jango met Cye’s curious gaze with one of his own. He would contact the clawdite bounty hunter with jobs that he wanted to subcontract. It was rare for her to reach out first. “Shall I tell her you’re busy?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. I’ll be right there.” Jango stood and nodded for Cye to follow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Boba raised his eyebrows and bounced excitedly. “Can I come?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not this time,” Jango replied. “I’ll let Zam know you say hi.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The young boy dropped his shoulders and frowned, but didn’t argue. He mumbled something under his breath and flopped down at the table and poked around his food. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Adorable. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Cye snorted softly before catching up with her brother. He took the holo into his bedroom and she slid the door shut behind her. From the look on Jango’s face, this was a conversation he didn’t want Boba to overhear. Cye sat down beside him at his desk as he activated the holo comm and Zam’s human, pixie-like face popped up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Zam,” Jango greeted the clawdite, back to his gruff, no nonsense tone. “I hope you have a good reason for contacting me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can’t a girl call to catch up?” Zam offered a sly smile. “It’s been a while Cye. You’re looking good. It just hasn’t been the same working solo.” Cye wasn’t sure if she winked or the holo flickered. She couldn’t help the fluttering in her stomach as she remembered the way Zam looked at her the last time they’d parted ways.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you wanted to chat, you called the wrong holo,” Jango said as he glanced back at Cye. She tried to keep her expression passive, but she was sure her brother saw the heat rising up her neck. “What do you have for me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Always business with you, Jango,” she sighed, “never pleasure. Too bad. I do have something for you though. That list of names you gave me? You should have told me I was looking for Jedi. It would have made things a hell of a lot easier.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jedi?” Cye asked, her past feelings evaporated and replaced with an instant swirl of anger and unease. “Tion'jor val oya’kar Jetiise?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nu oya’kar,” Jango replied, “Scouting. What did you find, Zam?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I had to call in a favor, an expensive favor too, Jango.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll get your money. If you completed the job.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sending you the data now,” Zam replied. “Six of the people on that list are dead. Seven of them are still part of the Order and three of them parted ways with the Jedi years ago but still live. I’ve got the assignments of the current Jedi and last known locations for the others.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good work, Zam,” Jango said with a curt nod. “How soon can you meet us at Tatooine? I have another job for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d like to get paid for this one first.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay then. How soon would you like to get paid?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zam rolled her eyes and gave an exasperated huff. “I can be there in two days if I leave now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll see you then,” Jango replied and moved to cut the holo feed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait, I-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cye stared forward at the spot where Zam’s face had been. She clenched her fist against the roiling emotions she wrestled as she avoided Jango’s eyes. He watched her carefully until she finally managed to put her thoughts in order. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You sent Zam to look for the Jedi at Galidraan.” Cye turned just enough to meet his gaze. It wasn’t a question, but he nodded anyway. “And you didn’t bother to warn her who she was looking for?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s a smart woman,” Jango said back. “I wasn’t worried.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does she know why?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I haven’t told her, if that’s what you’re wondering. But that doesn’t mean she won’t figure things out.” He balled his hand around her fist. “I sent her to collect information and now we’re one step closer to putting those Jedi scum in the ground. But I want us to be the ones to do it.” He activated the holo display on the data Zam sent over. “Let’s take a look and pick who we’re taking out first.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Seeing their faces dredged up the overwhelming sense of loss she thought she’d moved on from. Everyone she’d grown up with, everyone who looked after her and trained her after her father was killed, the people she cared about and believed in were gone in the span of an hour. Massacred by the so-called peacekeepers of the galaxy without a second thought. Fresh hatred blossomed like night blooming varos, filling anew the void their loss left behind. It was a reminder that they were still far from exacting their vengeance. She relaxed her hand and pulled away from her brother.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We should start with the deserters,” Cye said at last. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He swept aside the profiles of the Jedi still operating in the Order and expanded one of the renegades. They were near human with ashen green skin, short cropped blonde hair, and dark violet eyes. It was difficult to tell if they were male or female, but their distinctive triangular facial tattoos  across their cheeks and forehead made them recognizable enough to track down in a crowd.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Andan Valazos,” Jango said before he began spouting out stats, “Mirialan. One point eight six meters, seventy-seven kilos, right handed, specializes in Form Two Makashi lightsaber dueling. Padawan to Master Lurial Morusei, killed at Galidraan-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“-left the Jedi Order four years later without completing the Trials. Currently serving as a surgeon’s aid in the Med Corps on New Holstice, caretaker to the Jedi memory moths.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next image was a familiar one, though the name was different. Dooku, Count of Serenno. Renounced the Jedi Order shortly after Galidraan, citing the Order’s policing disputes they had no part in, growing involvement in politics, and corruption in the Senate. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“At least he could admit what he did,” Cye said as she looked over his credentials. “They managed to push him far enough to become their enemy too and they don’t even know it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No one else needs to know it either,” Jango added. “Tyranus is still more valuable to us alive anyway.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“After orchestrating all this?” Cye gestured with a circling hand. “I’m inclined to agree. Let’s see the last one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cye sucked in a sharp gasp and flinched like she’d been stabbed in the gut. She felt the bile rising as she stared at the face of the man who’d handed her over to the governor of Galidraan after slaughtering her aliit. She swallowed the hard knot in her throat, forcing air through her nose with a snort to remind herself to breathe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is it, Ika’vod?” Jango asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This one is mine,” she replied in a hoarse whisper. Even with a long, gray beard Cye recognized the crystal blue eyes, the long, hawkish nose, and the wide ears that tapered to rounded points. They were seared into her memory when she and Jango were hauled away to a fate worse than death. “I want my face to be the last thing he sees before I kill him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I won’t take that from you,” Jango replied. “But be careful. Dardua Waikali is a master of influence and mind control. They kicked him out of the Jedi Order for it. Out of all the Jedi on our list, he’s probably the most dangerous.” He expanded the man’s profile. He never moved past the basic forms of lightsaber combat, but he could manipulate even Jedi Masters with the Force.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t care,” Cye said with more anger than she intended. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I remember him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He enjoyed killing Mandalorians. I remember the way he smiled as they took us away. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> where we were going. I wanted to scrape that smile off his face with my boot. And now I will.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jango’s brow furrowed with a concerned frown emphasizing the scars on his face. She held his gaze with her jaw tight. She wasn’t going to hear any doubts or uncertainty from her brother. She wanted him to see she was serious. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You handle Waikali,” he said at last. “I’ll take out Valazos.” He pulled a spare datachip from the desk drawer and downloaded the information on Dardua Waikali then handed it to Cye. “I’ll drop you with Zam on Tatooine. She can go with you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t need a babysitter,” Cye protested.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Never said you did,” he said. The edge of his lip twitched up. “But she did want to catch up with you. Plus she knows Azterri well, especially Talos. If your mark is there, she’ll be able to help find him faster.” He stood up, pulling the data card and tucking it into his pocket.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll be fine,” he replied as he slid the door open and exited to the main room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And what if </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> need backup?” Cye asked as she stood and followed her brother out of the room. Boba was extremely focused on his food that he’d barely touched. She wondered how long he’d been listening at the door before he scampered back to his lunch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jango flashed a raised eyebrow and a smirk. “If you haven’t heard from me by the time you’ve finished your job, you can be my backup.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I could be your backup, buir,” Boba said, food forgotten once again. “I can shoot a blaster now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not yet,” Jango said. “You need to work on your aim before you come on jobs with me. We don’t need any bystanders shot unless we do it on purpose.” Boba groaned in disappointment, but didn’t argue. He went back to his food, but Jango stayed where he was, his head cocked, watching the boy. “Actually,” he said at last. “I think you should come with me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?!” Boba practically shouted with excitement.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. I think you’ll be very useful.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ori’vod,” Cye said warily. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have a plan,” Jango replied. “Besides, it’s time he started learning how to hunt.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I promise I won’t let you down, Ja’buir,” Boba said eagerly. “When do we leave?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pack your things,” Jango said with a nod towards the boy’s room. “We’re leaving as soon as we’re ready.” Boba leapt from the couch and straight for his room. As soon as he was out of earshot Jango turned back to Cye. “This will be a good learning opportunity.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure that’s wise?” she asked. “He’s only five, Ori’vod.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How old were you when Jaster started your training?” he asked back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cye sighed, “Four, but he wasn’t sending me after Jedi, either. Just target practice and how to field strip and clean blasters.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I promise I’m not going to let him get killed.” Jango placed his hand on her shoulder to offer more reassurance. “You know I wouldn’t be that reckless. I’m not just dragging him along either. I think he will be useful as a distraction.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you say so, then I trust you.” Cye looked up and gave a short laugh. “But if I don’t hear from you by the time I’m done, I’m coming after you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good,” he said with a quick nod. “Now let’s get our kits and get out of here. We have Jedi to hunt.”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <strong>Mando’a Translations:</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <span><em>Beskar’gam</em> - Beskar armor</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><em>Keldabe kiss</em> - Headbutt</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><em>Shebs</em> - Ass</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><em>Cye’ba</em> - Aunt Cye</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><em>Ba’vodu</em> - Aunt/Uncle</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><em>Uj cake</em> - A dense, very sweet flat cake made of ground nuts, syrup, pureed dried fruit and spice</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><em>Ni dinu!</em> - I give!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><em>Tion'jor val oya’kar Jetiise?</em> - Why is she hunting Jedi?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><em>Nu oya’kar</em> - She’s not hunting</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><em>Aliit</em> - Clan / Family</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><em>Ika’vod</em> - Little sister, younger sister, term of endearment for Cye (more familiar than the usual vod’ika)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><em>Buir</em> - Father/mother/parent</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><em>Ori’vod</em> - big brother, older brother, special friend, term of endearment for Jango</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. New Holstice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jango takes Boba to track down a Jedi hiding on the hospital planet of New Holstice in his continued mission to seek vengeance on those who were at the Battle of Galidraan.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>
    <em><strong>A/N</strong>: Long time, friends! Thank you for hanging in there while I took forever to get this next chapter up. I hope it won't take nearly as long to get the next one up. My brain has finally synced back up with this story so I'm feeling good about bein able to continue with this for a while. I hope you enjoy!</em>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>---</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <strong>27 BBY</strong>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>New Holstice was a bright and vibrant planet. It would have been a nice place to visit if not for the overly sterilized buildings and orderly landscaping. Every bit of the place was meticulously organized to the point where, for Jango, it seemed only a facsimile of liveliness. It was a well crafted facade, designed to give the people coming to the hospital world for treatment a sense of security and hope that they would leave this place healthy and whole. Almost like the Jedi, except this place actually helped people.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tracking the Jedi down had been easy once Slave I’s computers sliced into the hospital database. Andan Valazos kept a regular schedule, with the only deviations being for emergencies. Those were few and far between however, and most of their spare time was spent meditating with the Jedi’s memory moths. It was designed to serve as a memorial to those Jedi who were killed in the defense of the Republic. Each moth whispered a name of a fallen Jedi. A single name.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>They can’t even be bothered to do their own Remembrances</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Jango’s nose twitched in disgust, his sneer hidden under his helmet. They passed through the gardens as the sun set, casting blinding orange rays that reflected off tinted transparisteel windows in all directions. They carefully avoided the crowds during the evening shift change and any curious eyes that might have lingered a little too long. Boba walked ahead of his father, failing at keeping his excitement in check.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You must step lightly, Boba,” Jango said, drawing his son’s attention away from the silvery fish that swam circles in the manmade pond beside them. “Keep your weight on the front of your foot, not the heel. You don’t want your target to know you’re close.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Boba slowed his pace, focusing on his boots and tiptoeing with exaggerated steps. Jango shook his head with a silent chuckle. </span>
  <em>
    <span>At least he’s quiet now</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Every few steps he would stop and look up to check where he was going. Jango didn’t rush him, there was plenty of time and nowhere for Andan to hide. Even if he tried to run, he wouldn’t get very far. Jango didn’t want to make a scene, but he would if he had to. Whatever way it came to, it would be a good learning lesson for his son. He thought back to their talk, and hoped that Boba wouldn’t falter when the time came to act.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>---</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Why do you want to kill him, buir?” Boba asked as they flew through hyperspace towards New Holstice. Jango frowned at his son, deciding how to answer. He deserved to know, but how much would a five year old understand? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Before you were born, I was in charge of a large group of Mando’ade,” he began. “They were good soldiers, and good friends. They were aliit.” He thought of Myles, his last memory of his second being cut in two by a lightsaber as he tried to fly above them with his jetpack. “A group of Jedi thought we did bad things to innocent people. Instead of talking with us they attacked us, and killed everyone but me and your ba’vodu. Then they gave us to slavers.” Boba’s eyes went wide, but he waited, leaning forward to hear more. “Your Cye’ba and I swore to avenge our aliit’s deaths, no matter what. This person, Andan Valazos, was part of that group of Jedi on Galidraan. That’s why we are killing them.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Boba’s bottom lip quivered, but he didn’t cry. Jango was surprised that he’d managed to keep his own tears in check. It had been a long time since he’d thought back on Galidraan. He’d felt so empty that day, surrounded by the bodies of everyone he’d ever known. Myles had been his best friend and mentor. Watching him be cut down set Jango into a blind rage. He’d thought he’d lost Cye too until they dragged her up from the e-web. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The years hadn’t dulled his hatred for the Jedi or Death Watch. The torment he was put through as a slave was never far from his thoughts. The unspeakable violation and pain Cye endured sent him into a helpless, seething rage with every nightmare she woke up screaming. Jango would make them pay. He would end the Jedi, by any means necessary.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>---</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Jango’s smoldering anger settled comfortably in the knots between his shoulder blades. It kept him focused on the task ahead. Part of him wished he’d left Boba on Kamino. The boy shouldn’t yet see the things he wanted to do to Andan, the suffering he wanted to bring upon the Jedi. He knew though that one day Boba would be on his own, and he would need to understand the lengths that someone would go to for vengeance. It was an important lesson to remember when choosing whether to let someone live.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They slowly made their way to the heart of the gardens, towards the cylindrical monument housing flickering lights that drifted aimlessly about inside. Displaced leaves swirled in the breeze, carrying with it the astringent evergreen of the swaying trees. It was a gentle caress compared to the violent gusts of Kamino. They were far enough away from the hospital complex that the distant murmur of patients and doctors blended with the humming of insects waking up for the evening. The setting sun was nature’s changing of the guard. The chirps and night songs reminded Jango of nights spent in the field on one mission or another, sometimes camping by a fire, sometimes huddled beside his vode by starlight. It was a bittersweet moment. A moment of Aay’han that blended strangely with the rising lust for vengeance so close at hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The column at the center towered over the gardens. They were close enough to see the flickering lights inside weren’t floating aimlessly. “They’re alive,” Boba whispered, eyes filled with wonder at the glowing moths fluttering in lazy circles around their enclosure. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You need to stay focused, Boba,” Jango reminded him. “Those are memory moths. They carry the names of the dead.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The explanation didn’t sate the boy’s curiosity, but he asked no more questions. Jango paused, removing his helmet and kneeling eye to eye with his son. “Remember why we are here. Jedi are dangerous. A single distraction will give them the opening they need to overpower you.” Boba pressed his lips tight and nodded. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He has my frown</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Jango thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Of course he does.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “You memorized the person’s face? Do you remember what we practiced?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, buir.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good,” Jango said with a curt nod. “We only have one shot at this, Boba. You need to make it count.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The little boy squared his shoulders, giving his best serious expression. “I won’t let you down. I promise.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know you won’t.” Jango offered a small smile and gave him a pat on the shoulder before he stood, once again dining his helmet. “Go on. You know what to do. I’ll be right behind you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Boba took a deep breath, his eyes focused on his thoughts as he gathered his courage and wits. Then he was gone, sprinting off as fast as his legs could carry him towards the cylindrical tower. Jango watched him dash around the corner out of sight. He clenched his jaw against the twisting of his stomach. He realized in that moment how his adopted father, Jaster Mereel, felt when he’d sent a young Jango out on dangerous training missions. It was the best way to learn, and often the only way to truly understand what a person is capable of under pressure. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The ear piercing shriek nearly stopped his heart. Either Boba was better than he thought, or his son had really hurt himself. It took every ounce of resolve not to run and find him. No matter what, the plan was active. He had a job to do and he wasn’t going to ruin Boba’s efforts, especially if he’d injured himself in order to succeed in the mission. Instead of rushing he took stealthed with measured steps, making sure his boots made no sound as they touched the hard pavement.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He activated the thermal imaging in his helmet, scanning the area for other sentients. They’d timed their arrival well. Even with Boba’s scream, they’d not gathered an audience around the memorial. He could make out two images beyond the manicured wall of plants separating the home of the Jedi’s memory moths from the rest of New Holstice. A larger figure knelt down beside Boba’s small frame. They were focused on his arm, and it seemed to glow warmer than the rest of his son’s body. He’d seen that before with open wounds. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That’s definitely a distraction</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was about to come. The Mirialan wore a set of simple robes, not dissimilar from Jedi garb. They had their back to Jango as he approached in silence. Boba hadn’t noticed Jango either. Instead he stared at his arm with wide eyes still shining with tears. The Jedi had both his hands wrapped around his son’s bloodied arm, their head bowed low as they focused. There was a smattering of blood on the duracrete where Boba had taken his fall, the rest was soaking into his sleeve and the Mirialan’s robes. Jango stopped a couple meters away and unholstered both blasters.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know why you’re here.” The Jedi’s voice was resigned, relieved even. “This was a clever distraction.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Step away from my son, Valazos,” Jango growled as he stepped closer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your son?” Andan Valazos glanced up at Boba before refocusing on his arm. “Sloppy for a Mandalorian to break their arm. I’m nearly done, Jango Fett. Then you can do what you came here for.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The casual way Andan reacted to his presence put Jango on high alert. He scanned the area, confirming no other life forms within 200 meters. Just the three of them and the memory moths. He could hear the soft whispers of the names of Jedi long since dead. He kept his blasters trained on Andan, ready for whatever the Jedi was preparing for. He locked eyes with Boba. The boy showed no fear, </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I sense your confusion,” Andan said after a moment. “I can assure you there is no deception here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They released Boba’s arm with great care. His sleeve was torn and stained with fresh blood, but where Jango had expected a bone to be sticking out there was only bare, unblemished skin. Boba sucked in a surprised gasp as he held his arm up to his face. He twisted it around to inspect every side before looking between his father and the Jedi. Jango gave a slight tilt of his head and the boy responded, rolling away from Andan and to his feet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jango stepped around so he could see Andan’s face. There was another row of small triangular tattoos across their ashen green cheeks. Their dark violet eyes glistened in the light of the monument. A small smile touched their lips as they watched Boba. They didn’t seem to have aged much in the years since Galidraan, but he wasn’t sure how long-lived Mirialans were. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will your son be staying?” Andan asked in airy whisper. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andan’s eyes closed once again and they pressed their lips together in a thin frown. They nodded soberly and shifted with slow, measured caution on the ground into a meditation pose. Only after did they open their eyes and look to Boba.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am glad to have met you, son of Jango,” Andan said with a melancholy, almost wistful smile. “Your father has suffered much. I’m ashamed to say that I played a role in that. I knew one day he would come for me. I spent as many years as I could trying to atone for my mistakes. It brings me a measure of comfort knowing that he has you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Boba cradled his healed arm, staring at the Jedi with a mixed expression. Jango had prepared the boy for a fight, not for a monologue. He wasn’t sure if they were vying for sympathy, but they would receive none from either Jango or Boba. When Andan turned his head to Jango, a single tear spilled down their cheek.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For what it’s worth, I regret the events of Galidraan.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The </span>
  <em>
    <span>events</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Jango spat. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>The massacre</span>
  </em>
  <span> you mean.” Rage boiled quickly up his neck, nearly blinding him as his head flared with heat. He’d almost bought it, that maybe the remorse Andan felt was genuine, that maybe Jedi could actually feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He growled through his clenched jaw as he fired his blasters. One bolt to the chest, the other to the head. “Your regrets are worth nothing to me,” he said as Andan slumped forward, the blaster shots smoking holes through their body. Jango twirled his blasters as he holstered them, then looked to his son. Boba stared at the corpse, glancing down at his arm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s time to go, Boba.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His son nodded and swallowed heavily, giving the body a wide berth as he walked over to his father. Jango held out his hand and Boba took it. They left Andan where he fell. Someone would stumble across the Jedi eventually, there was no sense in hiding the body to make it more difficult. It’s not like Jedi came to visit the memorial often. Why would they need to remember the names of their fallen when the moths could do it for them?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They didn’t seem very bad, buir,” Boba said as they exited the gardens and skirted the facilities towards the ship bays. “They fixed my arm.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jango paused long enough to scoop Boba up in his arms. He lengthened his stride as he carried the boy. “Even bad people can do good things every once in a while,” Jango replied. “And sometimes no matter how much good they do, the bad thing they did before will always outweigh the good. Understand?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think so.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Boba didn’t sound convinced, but what five year old would. One day he would understand. As they reached Slave I, Jango set Boba down at last. “Go start the pre checks while I talk to Cye’ba.” That seemed to brighten up the boy as he dashed up the boarding ramp. He followed after, taking out his comm. He debated how to contact her for a moment before settling on sending a message. He wasn’t sure how far along she was in her search. He didn’t want to show off or, he thought with a smirk,  interrupt her time with Zam.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>:: It’s done. Sitrep when you can. ::</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Mando’a Translations:</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Buir - Father/mother/parent</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mando’ade - Mandalorians, lit. Children of Mandalore</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Aliit - Clan / Family</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cye’ba - Aunt Cye</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ba’vodu - Aunt/Uncle</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. En Route to Azterri</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>27 BBY - Azterri</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span>Cye sent the Monnok after the Kintan strider. The holographic image moved across the board and raised its tiny staff and brought it down over the head of the strider. The strider swayed but didn’t fall. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Damn.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zam’s bright laughter filled the main hold of Elthree’s Dynamic-class freighter. “I don’t understand how you can keep track of and use all that fancy Mando equipment to kill someone fifty different ways with ease but can’t manage to remember how much damage the striders can take.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I told you I’m no good at Dejarik,” Cye said with a huff. It was only the company that kept her mood from dropping below general annoyance. Zam had insisted on playing and Cye obliged, if only because the other woman had been so damned excited about the new holographic table. Her enthusiasm was worth the frustration. “I’ve lost every game I’ve ever played. Too much strategy with no tangible results.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure you’re not trying to let me win?” Zam asked with a playful smirk as she had her Kintan strider attack back on Cye’s Monnok piece. It brought down its giant maul and flattened the Monnok with a splat effect. “I’m not a Wookie, you know.” She winked and leaned forward, stretching her arms through the flickering holographic pieces. They became thicker and hairier and she grinned. “Unless you want me to be?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cye leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest as she rolled her eyes. “Why do you do that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do what?” She asked innocently as she reverted back to her human form once again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>That.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” The way Zam’s eyes glittered as her mouth curled in a mischievous smile flustered Cye even more than the quick shape shifting. “Do the people you spend time with want you to be something different every time they see you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not always,” Zam replied. Her casual flirtatiousness shifted to a sultry, concerned interest as she leaned forward, cupping her chin in her hands. “Does it bother you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not that it bothers me.” The feelings racing through her heart were jumbled. She inhaled deeply and let out a sigh to give her time to put words to thoughts. “I just can’t figure you out. Do you think you have to change yourself for me to be comfortable around you? Or do you want me to be bothered by you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The clawdite’s smile faltered ever so slightly. Whatever banter Zam had planned for, Cye’s probing questions weren’t it. Her eyes fluttered with annoyance and she huffed. “You’re just as good at killing the mood as your brother.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s that supposed to mean?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As far as Cye knew, Jango’d stayed well away from any </span>
  <em>
    <span>personal</span>
  </em>
  <span> interactions with Zam. He was the one who pushed her to bring the clawdite along. He wouldn’t have done so, playing a stoic, pragmatic kind of matchmaker, if he had any interest in Zam himself. Before she could reply Elthree’s metallic voice cut through the ship’s intercom.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re dropping out of hyperspace in ten seconds. Thought you might want to get ready.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cye nodded as she leaned forward, laying her arms on the table as she steadied herself. Zam flicked the Dejarik off and headed for the quarters to begin gathering her things, leaving Cye’s question unanswered. Not that she had time to bring it up at the moment. Her head buzzed lightly and stomach felt momentarily weightless as they exited hyperspace. Her body swayed to the right, but her grip on the table and planted feet kept her from losing her balance completely. She took a deep breath and shook the lingering fuzz from her mind and carefully stood.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She entered her quarters and stared at her neatly packed armor. She wanted to put it on, go in blasters firing and take out everyone who stood in her way until she found the bastard Jedi. That would only serve to let him know she was there for him. The hut’uun would only run and hide again, but harder the next time around. Patience. Instead she opened her other case and took out her armored jacket and concealed holsters for her holdout blasters. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The well worn black jacket had been tailored to her needs. Tevrin, the Togruta seamstress who’d swept her brother off his feet a decade ago, had made it for her when she took jobs that required a low profile. Slimmed down versions of the weapons in her vambraces were sewn into the sleeves. They weren’t ideal, but they were concealed and would do the job should she need to utilize them. She pulled the jacket on, slipping a charge pack into the front pocket to power the hidden equipment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you really going to wear your hair like that?” Zam waltzed in with her coy, playful demeanor back on full display. She wasn’t wearing her normal kit either. Instead of her bounty ensemble the clawdite was dressed more like a glow club girl. The bright iridescent dress hugged her slim frame, shifting colors as she came to Cye’s side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why wouldn’t I?” Cye countered as she fastened her jacket. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because we’re trying to look like we’re here to have a good time,” Zam said. “With your hair pinned up like that you look like you’re ready for a fight. Plus with it down we can cover up that scar. It’s pretty recognizable.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine.” The trainers and cadets on Kamino never gave her scars a passing thought. She’d almost forgotten that people might focus on them. “Are you really going to wear… that?” The semi-sheer fabric left little to the imagination. Cye focused on Zam’s bright green eyes as the other woman smiled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course I am.” Zam reached up and started unpinning Cye’s braid. She tensed but made no move to stop Zam and her hair fell free. She ran her fingers through Cye’s thick curls so they fell loose over her shoulders, leaving a trail of goosebumps as she brushed her fingers down her neck. “I like seeing you - bothered - by me.” Zam leaned in, lightly tugging on Cye’s jacket to pull her closer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop.” Cye took a step back, instinctively balling her hands to fists but kept them at her side. “This is not why we’re here, Zam. I need you helping me, not distracting me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not even a little bit?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This isn’t a game.” Cye kept her voice low, forcing her frustration through her teeth. “We’re not here to run a bounty on common gutterscum, and we’re not here to get over an ex. You give someone like Dardua Waikali an opening, a glance the wrong way, a touch out of place, and you’re dead.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know that, but you’re so focused on killing the man and we don’t even know where he is yet,” Zam sighed. “He’s a Jedi. He’s gonna sense you from a kilometer away with his Force feelers or whatever if you’re too focused on him. You need to relax.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You need to be serious,” Cye said, barely containing her anger now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am being serious.” Zam’s voice rose along with hers. “The people here will suck you dry leading you down a rabbit hole that goes nowhere if they know you’re desperate enough.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are,” Zam interrupted. “I can see it.” She inched closer, her hand reaching out. Her fingers were cool against Cye’s. Cool and calming. “I know he hurt you. The bastard’s gonna get what’s coming to him. I’m on your side, Cye. We just have to be patient.” Zam gave her hand a gentle squeeze and she offered a half smile. “And if we happen to have a good time along the way, then I’d call that a bonus.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cye nodded, letting her fingers curl around Zam’s delicate hand. She closed her eyes, keeping her anger quelled inside as she calmed herself. “We’ll do it your way.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I promise you won’t regret it.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Mando'a Translations:</p><p>Osik - Shit<br/>K'atini! - It's only pain! (also; Suck it up!)<br/>Mir'sheb - Smartass/asshole<br/>Shabuir - Motherfucker<br/>Ori'vod - Big brother, a term of endearment<br/>Shab - Fuck<br/>Beskar'gam - Armor</p></blockquote></div></div>
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